3,564 Clappers Later
by ShadowLurker13
Summary: There are finally enough listians (Labyrinthians) to change our favorite fluffy owl back into His Gorgeousness. And he knows why he's back. J/S Comedy/Romance/Angst/some supernatural. (Remember that whole clapping Tinker Bell back to life thing?)
1. Chapter 1

**3,564 Clappers Later…**

**by **

**Shadowlurker13**

**PG-13**

**Summary: There are finally enough listians (Labyrinthians) to change our favorite fluffy owl back into His Gorgeousness. And he **_**knows**_** why he's back. J/S Comedy/Romance/Angst/some supernatural. This is a work of fiction - I can't possibly stress that enough. This fic owes certain small thematic elements to the movie "Sneakers" but it isn't a crossover story by any stretch of the imagination. I don't own any of this stuff (at least the vast majority of it, some original characters aside) and kudos to Henson and Froud and all that jazz. **_**Shall**_** we?**

Chapter 1 - "Guess Who's Baaa_aaack_….."

In the blink of an eye it was _done_; Jareth's drastically sudden change in weight made the tree branch he had been perching on snap in two and he hit a few more on the way down before finally dropping unceremoniously to the ground. Groggily he pried open his eyes. "What in the name of - **!**" - the shock woke him completely as he finally realized that he was unaccountably back in his power form - the humanoid one. _What in cosmos could've possibly done __**this?! **_By way of that annoying little decree made so many years ago, Sarah had effectively stripped him of most of his power - and now he found himself miraculously near-restored.

_But __how__?… and __why__?…too many questions and not enough action to justify them, _he thought,slowly, painfully picking himself up off the grass. Quietly cursing his owl lifestyle for getting him used to sleeping during the day when most humans were active, he quickly scanned about him to ascertain if there had been any witnesses of the transformation - the risk to himself was a severe one and would require immediate memory erasure if there were any. The only person in the park was a young woman under a nearby elm tree, fingers tapping away furiously on some strange mechanical device, so engrossed in her current action that she had failed to notice his presence completely.

_Humans and their technology,_ Jareth thought with a small smile, shaking his head. _I wonder what she's doing that's so distracting._ Quickly melting his poet's shirt and trademark tight breeches into a tight white t-shirt and black jeans in the attempt to emulate some of the less-offensive human clothing he had seen men wearing in the park over the years, reserving the boots beneath (he wasn't about to conjure something as hideous as a tennis shoe), he silently stalked over and slipped behind her tree to get a better look.

Joyfully oblivious, Anna was just completing her seventh literary contribution to her favorite fan fiction archive - a Labyrinth story in which Jareth and Sarah have to battle evil ogres to save the kingdom and - almost prerequisite - fall in love in the process. Genuinely surprised at the content but arrogantly flattered, he quietly read over her shoulder as she added the finishing touches to the end makeout scene and watched as she hit 'update' before finally confronting her.

"A fascinating piece of work, really, but how did you _know_?"

Anna nearly tossed her laptop as she jumped in surprise at the deep, melodic voice coming from right behind her and she quickly whipped around to see the beautiful stranger who had managed to creep up on her and nearly make her destroy countless files of fan downloads and personal fiction.

"How did I know what?" she queried, eying him cautiously.

"That story, about the Goblin King and the girl?"

"Have you ever seen "**Labyrinth**"?"

"Seen Labyrinth?" he said, non-plussed, his eyebrows now knit in confusion. _Yes, I've seen it. Up until recently I'd seen it every day. What in Underground is __**this**__?_

_*sigh* stupid park full of bums and druggies… _"Yeah, seen the movie. By Jim Henson? **Labyrinth**? Starring the internationally famous rock god David Bowie? I mean I know it's a cult thing but for a second there you had me worried. Are you okay?"

"…I believe so." His crisp accent was not lost on her as he walked out from behind the tree.

"You're not from around here are you? Are you British?" Her eyes began to light up in fascination and possibility.

"Something like that," he smiled. _Leannan Sidhe to get __really__ specific but let's just gloss over that point for right now. I may need her…_

"Hey, I dig the eyeshadow - looks very cool! Do you go clubbing a lot?"

'_Eyeshadow'? Oh damn, I forgot to conjure away the __markings__! And what the hell is 'clubbing'? She cannot possibly mean the literal connotation…_"Clubbing?"

"Dancing?"

"Oh yes, very much," he blurted out looking away, his lack of recent regional human colloquialisms now painfully apparent.

"Are you_ sure_ you're alright?"

"…just feeling a bit out of place I guess," he admitted wearily. Not an exaggeration but much more of an honest sentiment than he was comfortable with disclosing under the circumstances. Under _any _circumstances. Here he was, the almighty Goblin King and Ruler of the Labyrinth for longer than anyone on this entire planet had been alive, and he was being made self-conscious by a young human female. _Ludicrous, _he thought as he sat Indian-style a decent distance across from her on the green.

"Wow, I had no idea Brit slang was so different from U.S.! You haven't been here long, have you?"

"Only twenty-one years."

"_Only_ twenty-one **years**_**?!**_"

"Twenty-one years," he stated, beginning to get annoyed at her incredulity, "not long at all. I might put the same question to you you're being so _inquisitive,_" he finally countered with a tilt of the head and a teasing smirk.

"You snuck up on me, I have every right to want to know who _you_ are! ….fine, I'll bite. Here in Albany? All my life."

He studied her for a moment. "How old are you?"

Anna laughed a little. _Yeah, I'm __**legal. **_"Twenty-one. How old art thou_?_"

"Old enough, and 'thou' is the wrong preposition with which to address a stranger or even an acquaintance. The correct one is 'you.'" _A little lesson in proper addresses never hurt anyone;)_

"Tou_ché._"

"I was tutored well in grammar."

"…wait a second…those eyes…that hair…nice job, Anna, you're officially cracking up…"

"What's wrong with my hair?!"

"Oh nothing, you look fabulous, it's just that this _can't be real_. Here, I'll prove it! What's your name?"

"Promise not to laugh? It's a bit antiquated."

"Promise."

"Jareth. Now it's been a pleasure to make your acquaintance but I _still_ don't understand the source of your consternation…" It was his turn to look worried.

"Do the words way too much fan fiction and not enough sleep mean anything to you?"

"Admittedly not much, but sleep, and particularly dreams, happens to be my specialty. Now-"

"**I'M HALLUCENATING ABOUT THE GOBLIN KING!"**

_Ah__. Oh my. Better calm her down quickly or at least shut her up before she starts drawing unnecessary attention…_

"First of all, if you really were losing your mind, screaming like that wouldn't make the least bit of difference in the world, so for both our sakes hush! Secondly, I can assure you personally that in seeing and interacting with me you have not taken leave of your senses."

Anna sat there staring in complete and utter shock, slowly taking in what seemed to be an honest (if somewhat improbable) figure whom up to this moment she had just assumed was the product of some overactive female writer's imagination. Still understandably shaken and not really ready to trust her eyes and ears she decided a reality check was best in her current situation.

"Prove it."

"Prove what? That I exist?" He looked a bit amused at her consternation. "Didn't I just give you my word as a gentleman? Besides, you seem to know about me already somehow…" _If anyone in my kingdom has let the word out they'll wish they only had the __devil__ to pay…_

_You__, a __gentleman__? __That's__ definitely questionable. _"…I'd like to believe, but it really seems a bit too fantastical, I mean you… being here and all…I just thought you were a character from a story," she finally admitted. As weird as it sounded, it was the truth.

_So the little buggers got a bit too busy with the __printing press__, did they? They were only supposed to make __**one**__ believable copy of the storybook and I __**personally**__ made sure __**that**__ one got delivered. I wonder who saw the others…no matter, what's done is done and if I ever get home someone will be in the Bog in short order. At least it is considered a work of __fiction__, or definitive action on a __**planetary**__ scale would be in immediate order for the safety of my kingdom, _he mentally winced_. _He dragged a hand over his eyes and took a deep breath. _Now for __getting__ home… *sigh*: how do I convince this girl that this is __**real**__…? _Jareth seriously thought for a moment when his eyes suddenly flashed with an idea a devious smirk spread across his porcelain features. _Better than a glass of water in the face. Dead ringer._

"I am correct in presuming that you have no psychic capabilities at all, am I not?" He turned to Anne and smiled a small, knowing smile. _If she __had__ she would've been able to __**feel**__ that I am no mortal man by now simply from proximity._

She shook her head no. "Not a blip."

"Excellent, Anna Josephine Johnson." Anna's jaw momentarily dropped in disbelief when he rattled off her full given name but Jareth just smiled, tapped it closed with one gloved finger, and continued in a low, conspiratory tone, leaning forward, barely able to conceal his smugness in showing off. She leaned in, too, curious to see what he was up to. "Now listen closely for what I am about to tell you will occur precisely 45 seconds from now. A boy in a yellow shirt is about to ride his bicycle into this park" he emphasized, pointing down. "He will become distracted by a running woman whom he will find extremely attractive in the physical sense and, in consequence, will momentarily not be watching the path; he will ride straight into the lake_!_ He may need some small assistance in retrieving his bicycle, that part of the lakebed is particularly viscous. I'll wait for you here."

And with that he vanished. No fading, no glitter, just gone like that.

_Now I __know__ I was dreaming, _thought Anna. _No more fics for a __year__, I __swear!_ It was then that she looked up just in time to see her best friend Steven pedal into the park on the bike trail, lose his train of thought thanks to an anorexic jogger in a D-cup, and fly off smack into the deep section of the lake, narrowly missing the stone bridge by a measly two feet. "STEVEN!" _That __idiot__! _She ran over to help him get out, the bank was steep with few sure footholds; with a bit of extra effort they managed to pull up the bike, now completely caked in at least 20 lbs. of mud and slime.

"Nice to know where your brain is these days, you nut! You're lucky I was here or that bike would've been officially glued to the bottom of the lake for sure!"

"Point taken but, hey, I'm only human_!_ I don't make fun of you when you drool over guys that don't even exist, do I have to start naming them? Captain Jack Sparrow," he made a mock salute, "Legolas, Jareth-"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" _…oh god, can he __hear__ us? Please __**no**__…_

"Speak of the devil… _**earth to **__**Anna**__**?**_" He waved his hand in front of her face a couple of times.

She blinked suddenly. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Steven just sighed in faux exasperation and shook his head, smiling at her. "Seriously, thanks, though. Hey, are you free tonight? We could go to a movie or just hang out at my house or something?"

"You know that sounds great but I _reeally_ have to finish this Laby story I've been working on-"

"Not another one?"

"Hey, everybody needs a hobby."

"Yeah, note the usage here: hobby, not obsession. …awww, don't give me that look, Anna, alright. Give me a call if you can ever pry yourself away from Pretty Boy, okay?"

"I **promise**. See ya later then!"

Anna watched her now-bedraggled friend walking resignedly away with his heavy bike in tow before reluctantly returning to the elm. Jareth was lounging in her spot in a rather insolent fashion, one knee propped up and his elbow resting on it.

"_Pretty Boy_? Is that his epithet for me or yours I wonder…" That small, knowing smile again.

"…mine," she said at length, eyes averted and cheeks flaming in clear embarrassment. _Who ever thought I' d be admitting my crush to his __**face**__?!_

_This may prove to be easy after all if she feels some type of attraction toward me_ he thought with a devilish inward smirk. _Gotcha._ Switching on a subtle come-hither spell that would've made Nosferatu weep, he fixed her with one of his most compelling gazes - calm yet intense. And in a soft, husky voice to match:

"Would you help me?"

All Anna could do was nod 'yes'.

_She's already lost in her dreams, _he mentally chuckled. _Not a bad idea for __payment__ if she can deliver. _He genuinely gave a full smile at her reaction and was satisfied to hear a small, involuntary intake of air. _Too__ easy._ "Come here. Sit," he added in the same tone, like the magician he was, and he gestured to the empty space right beside him.

_Come here? I'm ready to __launch__ myself at him! Wonder what __he__ needs. _Without a second thought, Anna jumped at the chance and did as he bade, totally unaware of the fact that she wouldn't be able to move from that spot - literally - secured by the come-hither. Jareth decided to leave it on as a safety precaution in light of how antsy she had been only moments ago; hopefully it would prove to be unnecessary. Those sort of things only directly affected the body and indirectly the mind. He had once employed such a device to great success and incredible heartbreak…

_Not __now__! Concentrate on the task at hand! _He continued in the same tone of voice. "That device of yours, could it …research someone?"

At this Anna openly bust up laughing and Jareth was noticeably taken aback at her strange reaction.

"You just need me for my computer!…I mean, why else, right?…...right…..*sigh* okay, who are you looking for?" she finally asked, the short-lived dream shattered, opening the laptop back up.

"I _am_ sorry," he said, putting one hand on hers, "I just thought that that might make this easier for both of us." She looked at him levelly. " I guess not…"

"If you want to start dealing better with humans you can't just wave a dream in somebody's face and then expect them _not_ to be disappointed when that's all it is - a dream."

_An odd piece of logic that but it strangely makes sense. Form without substance. Honesty above all, even if it hurts. Very well. _

Anna saw that he had gone strangely pensive. _He really __isn't__ used to dealing with people. Be a little easier on him. _"What was the name?"

_What? …Oh! _He had waited so long! "Sarah Williams."

"The whole story's literal truth then?"

He withdrew his hand, momentarily looking away. "Mostly, yes."

"Wait a minute - were you waitingfor her?!"

"I'm trapped here," he ground out, looking back at her, a bit annoyed at having to disclose so much even to a small portion of the public.

Anna's eyes widened in incredulity and a quiet 'oh' formed on her lips. _Laughing would probably get me __killed__ right about now_. "…and only _she_ can get you back! How? Why didn't you try asking somebody before?"

"I believe you know almost know too much already," he continued, straightening one of his altered gloves (why humans liked to cut the fingers and knuckles out of a perfectly good pair of leather gloves was a complete mystery but oh well) "I was trapped in my totem form. I have yet to find one of your kind that can comprehend a series of hoots."

_He __was__ trying. __That's__ desperation._

"I found myself restored to near-proper capacity not an hour ago and I don't know _why_."

That last statement really made Anne think. That was a pretty awkward situation and desperate times did justify desperate measures, but what could've done that after twenty-one years? She suddenly blanched. _Oh no, she's not __dead__, is she? That would probably set things straight in a hurry. But that would correct things __completely__, wouldn't it? He wouldn't still be here if that were the case. There __must__ be another way…oh no, it's too ridiculous, and __yet__…_ "Would wishing bring you back?

"I haven't been truly summoned in years, it was quite impossible-"

"No, I mean just wishing_._ Wishing that you were real."

_Dreamscape? The collective human unconscious of __course__! Was it __really __possible?_

"Reason I asked was… well… take a look at this," and she brought back up the fan fiction indexes, turning the screen toward him so he could see. Under the title _Labyrinth_ there were now precisely 3,500 entries, counting Anna's. She handed him the PC and he gingerly placed the strange device in his lap as she had done. "Can you use this?" _Has he ever even __touched__ a computer before?_

He knit his brows. "It looks simple enough." After a quick study of the keyboard and some small testing of the 'mouse' finger pad he began using the scroll options to peruse the first fistful of stories. And, at the top of nearly all the entries, beneath what appeared to be a brief apology to a Mr. Jim Henson, were statement after statement of admiration, affection, and outright worship (physical and otherwise) - all directed at _**him!**_

"And that's just this site. There are some others but…"Anna trailed off into nervous guilty laughter, shaking her head, "oh, man…"

"But _what?!_"

"Let me just put it this way: I don't write smut."

Jareth raised his eyebrows at _that_ one and he started a low, gentle chuckle, his head slowly leaning back as he laughed. If the end of Anna's story was average of the genre, there were hundreds upon hundreds of human females out there wishing their favorite anti-hero was with Sarah. Not just with her, mind you - with **power over her**!

_And in many different __ways__, apparently. It seems that I have an army __here__ that's even more unquestioningly loyal than those brainless goblins. Damn __lucky__, too. …wait, why would they even __like__ such a villain as I am probably, at least originally, portrayed?…oh never mind, the answer is probably far too complex and riddled with bad psychological events for even __my__ taste. Don't take a gift vulture for granted and all that. _His ego thoroughly stroked, he theatrically handed the laptop back, stretched out like a cat, and, leaning elegantly back into the tree with his arms crossed behind his head, mockingly took up court and pronounced in a teasingly aristocratic tone: "You may begin the search for my lady Sarah."

Rolling her eyes, Anna opened up the online multi-search engine that contained the White Pages and queried the full name with no further information. "Oh_ man_, you've got to be kidding, there are over 500 entries! Did you have any idea just how common that name is?! We'll be here for weeks!"

"Well, if that's how long it takes-"

"I was being facetious, but, seriously, we have to weed this list down somehow. How old is she?"

He thought for a moment. "…37."

Anna looked at him. "You realize, of course, that there's the possibility that she's married by now?"

"If the problem arises I'll deal with it," he said darkly.

"Oh my."

"_The Search_?"

"Right! Wait, am I getting used or am I getting used here?! What if I choose not to work for free, huh? Admit it, J, you need me," she said with a confident smirk. _Cocky, determined bastard. Time to bring him back to earth. _

Her breath hitched for a moment as she felt a distinct tug on the come-hither and met his eyes involuntarily. He looked positively dangerous but only in the manner that would give a devout female listian chills of pleasure. He produced a dream crystal and mockingly flashed a smile.

_Just reminding her who's in charge here._

Anna's eyes widened in surprise and greed when she saw the crystal, knowing damn well what it was, and made a lunge for it. Deftly holding it out of her reach he chuckled lightly.

"Ah, ah, ahhh," he tutted, "only when you give me Ms. Williams _full address_."

"You don't fight fair!"

"I never said I _did_, now get back to work," he shooed her with a little hand gesture, settling back into a comfortable recline.

"Great, that narrowed down the field to 28. By the way, you're really effeminate, you know that?"

"It also says something about your taste as well, but that's neither here nor there. Let me see that list."

"They're spread out all over the country - Good luck! Can't you just use one of those crystals to see where she is?"

"I may not be able to but I can try. It might be another power that is still damaged in her favor." He formed another crystal out of thin air and found Anna staring, entranced. He watched her, a bit amused. "Are all Labyrinth devotees like you?"

"What? Oh, sorry, I could just watch you play with those things for _days…_"

Shaking his head at her yet again with an amusedly annoyed sigh he clenched the crystal in his left hand and began to concentrate, willing Sarah's location to come to him; it was like reaching out into the dark and an object floats into your hands - usually. Sarah's power was obviously fighting him, trying to block his scry. _…just a little more…almost got it…__**a**__**ha!**_ The orb suddenly glowed to life with Sarah's face, the image causing it to hum slightly. Time had not been entirely kind to her, he noted with a bit of sadness.

_Damn human mortality._ While she had obviously matured quite nicely if her facial features and bone structure were anything to go by, there were already crow's feet developing in the corners of her eyes when one looked closely and a line here and there elsewhere - this one from worry, those from laughing too much. Like lines on a palm it seemed to Jareth that every action or thought or experience had by a human left a tell-tale trace of its presence in some small way or another and his precious Sarah held true to the rule. And one perfectly silver hair, shining brightly in the artificial light. _Who caused __that__?_ he thought with a sad smile. In an odd, morbid way the process fascinated him; gods know he'd seen it play out for hundreds of years while he himself never experienced change or age. No visible history. Sarah had made him feel like he was alive, really _alive_, not just a statue of a monarch doomed to withstand the tempest of time for centuries to come without flinching.

It was Anna's turn to shock _him_ out of reverie.

*a_hem_!*

"What? Ah, yes, where were we?" he drawled in a pleasant tone, not about to let her have the upper-hand. "I suppose _that_ doesn't help much, does it?"

"Can't you get anything more than her face? Pan out and scan around or something."

"This isn't as easy a spell as it looks - her poweris pulling on the other side of this. I must keep her face in sight or the crystal will implode.

"Sounds like Mission: Impossible."

"What's that?"

"Oh it's an old 'spy movie'" - she continued in a mock low, serious voice, "'this tape will self-destruct in thirty seconds."

"Danger and excitement, two of my many attractive qualities," he said with a cocky smile, only half-joking.

"I never should've let you see that fan base - your ego is not one of them."

A warning glance shot in Anne's direction shut her up promptly but it softened with the tug of a wry half-smile. _She has a point._

_Short fuse, be careful…_

Upon seeing her tense again, Jareth reflected that he had to be careful with this girl. _You __know__ she scares easily so don't do it on __purpose__!_ He closed his eyes momentarily, took a deep breath and delicately resumed the conversation as if the last comment hadn't even occurred. "I will try to get a bit of her surroundings but I will have to concentrate much more to do so. Alert me if you see anything that strikes you as unique." And with that he brought the crystal up to eye level and began to stare with an intensity that could've burned paper.

Slowly, carefully, Anne watched the exact same image through the other side - it was remarkably like a hologram - as Sarah went from face only to vignette to a full body shot and at last one could see where she really was. Not that it made the slightest bit of difference in the world: _she was in a __cubicle__! _A perfectly normal, boring, ordinary, gray cubicle that could literally be in an office right down the street or in downtown Tokyo for all she knew! _She's __there__, somewhere, typing up some kind of __report__, hmmm… _"Get as close to the computer screen as you can, damn she's looking right _at_ it."

"I sincerely hope you can read human script from any direction," he said, carefully trying to pivot the angle. From what little Anna could make out nearly upside-down and on a near-vertical slant, it appeared to be full of equations and scientific terminology. Science? From a notorious right-brainer like _that_?

_J. may be in for a hard time if she's changed __that__ much, _Anna reflected. _No fantasies __there__. _"Get her full body again."

"Gladly_,_" Jareth commented with a teasing smirk.

_Oh give the guy a break, he __likes__ her._ Sarah stopped typing, got up and stretched - she'd probably been stuck in there for hours. Among the knick-knacks on her desk were environmental logos, odd bits of unidentifiable machinery and a bumper sticker pinned to the wall of the cubicle that read in big, bold letters "Hey you - out of the gene pool!" Anna got a good laugh out of that one but suddenly stopped cold - in the corner by a picture of who she took to be her family was a functioning clock! It read 12:15. Anna quickly looked away to check the time on her laptop - 2:15. _Mountain Standard! _"Cross off the east and west coasts; she's on the continental divide somewhere."

"So glad that we can be specific here."

"Oh be quiet, I'm doing the best I can; this is a frickin bland building, there aren't even any windows!"

"Keep trying, then."

His voice struck Anna as oddly calm now, without the bite of sarcasm or wit that it had held before. _It must be like meditating. __That's__ why he told me to let him know what's going on, he'll probably be pretty far out by the time this is all over. _Sarah took one last look at the computer before hitting save and shutting everything down. _Maybe she's on lunch break. Go outside, __go outside!_ She was dressed nicely but it looked comfortable: an olive-green blazer-and-slacks suit with an undyed cotton shirt beneath and a natural-looking necklace with small wood beads, minor gemstones, and tiny shells. Her hair was back in a braid and…_yes she's __still__ addicted to those stupid loafers, at least she's not a Birkenstock junkie _Anna thought, shaking her head. _What on earth does she __do__ for a living?_ Sarah was now walking with quick and sure strides through a maze of other near-identical cubicles, finally arriving at what appeared to be the break room, stopping to refill her coffee mug and talk to another female employee who, from the facial structure, looked Eastern European. _I wish we could hear what they're saying; it would __really help__ right about now. I __wonder__…_ Jareth didn't even seem to notice her suddenly close proximity as Anna leaned in and in a low voice murmured right in his ear "Give me the dream crystal _now._"

"Not on your _life_." His face hadn't changed one bit. Anna suddenly felt herself sat up straight by some invisible force.

_Whoa__, he can't take a joke, either._

Jareth sighed. "In the name of your near-blasphemous devotion to me, please try to remain serious. I will need your complete cooperation if this is ever going to work. _Now…my dear,_" he said, using the exact tone of voice she had clumsily attempted only moments before, bringing one gloved finger gently but forcefully beneath her chin to direct her gaze - and complete the charm - "_…__concentrate__…_" As he withdrew his hand again, Anna felt as if he were taking her heartstrings with him, darn him, adding to the level of compulsion and trust enacted by his voice. Thus relaxed and completely unable to move or look away, Anna watched on. Coffee in hand, Sarah wound her way back to her cubicle, picked up a manila envelope stuffed with papers that was sitting on the desk next to her computer and headed off in a different direction this time, finally coming to a straight passage, suggesting the edge of the room. It was definitely a strange building from what of it Anna could see in the edges of the crystal: it was almost intensely bright in places but from the shadows one could clearly see that there were tons of skylights, but they were positioned with _precision_ for maximum effect. There seemed to be radiators not only at a surprisingly regular interval in the floor but also in large structural columns, often facing in four different directions.

_How odd. Just how big __is __this place?_ Anna caught her breath when Sarah opened a door and strode into a conference room with huge near-floor length windows in three of the walls - there was a large mountain range in the backdrop! Snow was still on some of the highest purple peaks. On the side of one particular mountain was a big white letter 'M'. The name of the town? A college maybe? _Still too vague but we're finally getting somewhere - __the Rocky Mountains are in plain sight!__ …so that leaves Colorado, Wyoming and Montana that might look like this at this time of year if she's still in the states. Only five addresses to pick from! Come __on__, just a little bit __more__…_ The conference room seemed to be hosting a car company of all things as various presenters showed diagrams, computer models and… yes, solar panels! When it was Sarah's turn to present, she took a different route around the table to not get in the way of the overhead projector, passing the back wall. And on this wall was a plaque and a small sculpture diorama dedicated to GELA. _Finally!_

"_Jareth_," - she tasted the name more than said it - "I have what we're looking for. …can I …_move_ again so I can research an acronym?"

He didn't respond right away.

"…_If you __insist_," he deeply intoned.

Suddenly released, Anna blinked in surprise and eyed him with a healthy amount of suspicious caution. _Okay, __you__ have __way__ too much fun with the control thing. Good luck, Sarah - you're going to __need__ it._ Picking up the laptop again, Anna looked up GELA and quickly discovered that it stood for Green Energy Laboratories of America and was most likely the branch in Golden, CO, built right into the side of a mesa. Ranging from solar to wind to alternate fuels, the lab played host to a vast array of companies at any given time while posing as an environmentalist poster-child group in the process. Apparently quite a lot of what went on up there was strictly hush-hush and under lock, key, and electric barbed wire. Anna couldn't help but wonder what they were really doing in there. _Don't be silly, it's a __government operation__, of __course__ they're going to be fuzzy in the details. Looks like she's got herself one hell of a job…and she commutes in from Denver every day, __there it is__… _"Hey J., I've got what you're looking for," Anne teased in a sing-songy fashion.

Reluctantly Jareth tore his eyes away from the crystal, letting it disintegrate into glitter in his hand, looking back at it in regret before acknowledging Anna again.

_He must __really__ miss her; he's just putting on a brave front._

"Yes?"

"This one," she pointed on the screen.

"Well, I must thank you for your time and kind assistance, but I must be on my way…" He stood up.

"Hey, wait a minute! Aren't you forgetting something?"

His features took on a look of surprised remembrance. "…of course!_"_ And with that he touched both of his eyelids with one hand, making the marks disappear, and then ran both hands down the full length of his hair, smoothing it straight - slightly more normal-looking by human standards, but only slightly.

"I meant your end of the bargain_,_" Anna said levelly.

He feigned hurt innocence. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Do I or do I not get that dream crystal? I gave you her full address just like you said."

"Now that was never a promise, you should've gotten it in writing. Better luck next time," he teased as he took a few paces backwards and began to vanish.

"**JARETH!**"

"Catch this!"

And with no further warning he pitched a crystal right past her! Anna ran and caught it just before it hit the ground, diving after it as if it were something more precious than the Hope Diamond - and not the sleep spell that it _was_; the moment it grazed the tips of her fingers it absorbed and she was out cold on the grass. Jareth rematerialized beside her unconscious form, scooped her up gently as one would carry a small child, strode back to the tree, and lay her down beneath it. She would remember none of what had transpired in the past hour, or that he had _ever been there_, when she awoke. For the time being, however, there was a small smile on her face as she dreamt of the aforementioned rock god, in his prime of youth, lavishing his attentions upon her in a most vivid and unrelenting fashion. Jareth mentally rolled his eyes a bit at her choice of dreams - she could've had anything and she chooses _this_ fellow - but if that was how she regarded the actor who played him in that 'movie', in her darkest fantasies she would continue to secretly wish that he was real, that he had power, doing him more good than she would ever know.

His purpose finally accomplished, Jareth turned to go but something odd stayed him - a small twinge of guilt he wasn't quite ready to own up to. "Great time to be growing a conscience," he muttered to himself as he turned back and set up a quick shield spell around her - if anyone got within five feet of her from any direction while she was unconscious, they would find themselves face-to-face with an invisible and impenetrable wall. It was designed to vanish the moment she awoke. As much as he would've liked to stick around to watch that idiot of a boy who had a crush on her try to get through - he would no doubt return when she would fail to call upon him in a few hours - Jareth had his own date with destiny to keep and he wasn't about to miss it for the world.


	2. 2 Houston, We Have a Stalker

Chapter 2 - "Houston, we have a _stalker_…"

8:03p.m. - Sarah Williams - out - Research Facility

_Thank __God__, I was beginning to think that meeting was never going to __end__, _Sarah thought as she turned the ignition key in her bio-electric car and pulled out of the Employees Only Clearance parking lot at GELA. There had been so much work lately with Nikola Motors pushing a company deadline with it's new more fuel-efficient prototypes for next year, especially a solar-battery sports model that, if it ever got off the drawing board and onto the highway, would leave maverick made-at-home fancy sports cars in the dust. The problem was getting a car with a solar-charged battery able to sustain speeds past 60 MPH without immediately draining all the available reserves, a problem that had left Sarah and her colleagues in gridlock for months, oftentimes meaning that they stayed at the aforementioned drawing board and/or in the plant until the wee hours of the morning more days than even Sarah liked to admit - it was taking a huge chunk out of what little life she had. She had to keep reminding herself that the work she was doing was not just so some automobile producer could get rich; it was information that would be important for the entire world someday. Just thinking of that trash heap in from of the gates of the Goblin City made her shudder to this day - and she had promised herself a long time ago that _her_ world wouldn't ever look like that if she had any say in the matter. Dreams only get you so far; after that you need a definitive plan of action.

But no matter how important and logical our actions are, we still need to dream sometimes, to experience true creativity for its own sake and by night Sarah had found her outlet - at least whenever she could escape the office early enough - the Gemini Café in downtown Denver. The neighborhood was rough and trashy with a halfway house at the end of the block but the venue was well worth it, with open mic nights, poetry jams, traveling bands of musicians and actors, the occasional swing dancing upstairs and an impressive all-organic menu (the proprietress ran her car on fuel made from the cooking grease). The establishment had been made no-smoking years before the nationwide ban went into effect. Top-notch yet painfully hippie: Sarah's kind of place.

Stopping by her pad fast to change and freshen up, she had just closed the door behind her when she knew, instinctively, that something felt _off_.

_Oh __man__, did someone break in?_ Sarah quickly turned on all the lights in her immediate vicinity and continued to do so in all the rooms. She searched the closets and behind the shower curtain, mace in hand, and feverishly looked under the bed -

…no one, not a hair out of place, the windows were closed and locked …and _yet_…

Sarah turned on the radio and did her best to shake the feeling. "I've been working far too hard lately," she said to the room, "definitely time to go have some fun before heading back to the grind." The feeling of being closely watched persisted, however, and even when she left her apartment she couldn't resist the impulse to look over her shoulder more than once in the safety of her locked car as she sped off to the Gem. If she had carefully examined the backseat she would've found a tell-tale trace of glitter…

* * *

Thursday night was always one of the open mic nights for single musicians and small bands - usually a free-for-all with a willing and eager audience; you never knew who or _what_ you were going to get. By the time Sarah got past the guy selling tickets and got shown a table in the staging area the place was already packed with regulars, musicians waiting their turn onstage, and the general, changing throng of curious on-lookers. After what felt like an eternity, one of the ridiculously overworked waitresses, her short blue dreds back in pigtails, finally fought her way over to Sarah's table and got her drink order, promising to be back sometime this century.

_So she lets herself dream at night,_ Jareth thought, slightly amused at her choice of hangout, taking in the scenery with a sigh. _Here we go…_

Discreetly emerging from the shadows by the thick black velvet curtain that divided the staging area from the restaurant proper and the staircase that led to the room upstairs, he zapped his name to the top of the list at a moment when no one was looking and managed to borrow an acoustic guitar from a young man who was wearing, by Jareth's standards, decidedly odd attire: the pants looked as if they would fall off at any moment.

_Why__?…oh never mind, the human creatures at this stage of development seldom make sense…not unlike __home,_he thought with a wry smile. _Just pretend that they're unusually intelligent goblins and all will be well. _Once the band right before managed to drag themselves and all their sound equipment back off the small, lit stage, Jareth simply walked on without an introduction, sat down on the stool they left for him up there, and quickly tuned the guitar. He had actually never played one before but there were similar instruments in his world with which he _was_ familiar and he conjectured that it would be relatively easy once he knew how the strings were pitched. _Only a fourth-step down, not bad…_

"This is for Sarah Williams."

Upon hearing her name uttered over the speaker system Sarah's gaze shot up from her newly-acquired drink to the stage and she could scarcely believe her eyes - _it was __**him!**_ She couldn't even pretend to understand it but there he was, after all these years, sitting placidly onstage playing an intricate guitar rendering of that song he had sung to her in that hallucination of a ballroom.

_What the hell is he up to?! He's trying to blend in…and __kiss up__? Okay, __that__ one doesn't make sense…_

Jareth worked his way through the ending Sarah had left before hearing the first time and delicately strummed cadence. There was wild applause; the man was obviously classically trained besides being insanely gifted. With a full smile and a curt bow he was off the stage, fighting his way through the crowd to Sarah's table.

_Cocky as ever,_ she thought as he brazenly pulled out the other chair and sat down across from her without even being asked, still smiling. Her response was level and a bit irritated.

"Why are you here?"

"I thought that dedication would've made it obvious," Jareth teased. He was in too high of spirits just being able to talk to her again to take anything seriously at the moment but he knew he had to try, she was none too happy to see _him_.

"What do you want? Is there a _real reason _for this unpleasant little surprise visit or did you just feel like taking a quick side trip before heading back home to torture somebody?" Her voice was practically dripping with sarcasm and thinly-veiled malice.

"Do you really think me such a monster?"

"What do you call sending a hall full of spinning knives after someone?Kindness?!"

"I'll admit it was a bad decision to scare you like that but if it had actually caught up with you the whole machine would've stopped on a coin, now can we please stop talking about the past long enough for you to _hear me out?_"

There was a desperation in his voice that stopped Sarah cold: did he just beg her to listen? He took advantage of her momentary lapse into silence and quickly continued.

"When you declared that I had no power over you…I lost all of my power."

"What? But…why? I mean, that should've only affected _me_, right?"

"Apparently the Labyrinth itself believes in 'winner takes all.' I have been living in your world for the past 21 years…" he swallowed and embarrassedly looked away "as an owl."

Stunned, Sarah could only sit there, staring in disbelief. Suddenly the idea of him eating mice hit her and it was all she could do to keep from laughing - he could tell.

"Yes, yes, I know, laugh, it was a great victory, Sarah," he stated with sarcastic hauteur. "Now for the reason I am here to talk to you tonight; it seems that the fates have decided to cut my humiliation short. Today in fact…"

"Why? What happened?"

"Apparently I finally have more devotees than you have power," he stated smugly, knowing that would get a rise.

"WHAT?!"

"And 3,500 was the magic number of wishers needed to restore me this far-"

"All right, you stuck-up pansy, what is the _real_ reason behind all this bullshit? You've got about 30 seconds to explain yourself or I'm_ leaving_ and you can go get a job at McDoogles for all I care!"

His response was barely restrained and over-articulate as he fought the impulse to scream it at her.

"I need more power to make the crossing; I still can't _do it__! _However much you may dislike me I _need your __help_! If by some miracle this works and I _still_ repulse you in the end I, for one, will _gratefully _leave you alone for the _rest of your __short human lifespan__!_"

Sarah had never seen him so emotional - she had half-expected that he really didn't have any. _It took a __lot__ to bring him this far…that took a lot of guts and nerve to __admit__…but what was that comment right before…? _

"…I know I'm probably going to regret asking this but what's all this about you having 'devotees'?"

"Have you ever seen "Labyrinth"?" he said with a bit of a teasing smile, remembering Anna's incredulity only a few hours earlier. This was going to be fun.

"The movie they made more or less from the book? Yeah, I went and saw that one back-in-the-day out of sheer, morbid curiosity."

He smirked at the confession as she continued.

"They really didn't do the place justice, though, and the critics just hated it. It didn't make much money in the theater, either. I guess it still has some kind of a cult following but-**!**" Sarah mentally stopped dead in her tracks and almost smacked herself in the forehead. A cult following. Devotees. David Bowie had portrayed Jareth. _Oh __no__,_ Sarah winced.

Jareth was having a ball watching those lovely gears of hers click away and come to the right conclusion.

"3,500?"

"Fan fiction."

_There'll be absolutely no living with him after this. Just do whatever it takes to get him out of here __quick__._ "Just what all does this 'plan' of yours to get more power involve? Be painfully specific."

"And that, I fear, is the place where I cannot help you for, at least right now, there are no clear-cut answers as far as I can tell - it will depend entirely upon _us_. Ultimately it will involve you…losing a bit of your power."

"No way. I'm not about to sign a blank check on my life just because you decided to waltz back into it and asked me for it nicely."

_Headstrong, stubborn and suspicious as ever. Don't let her get under your skin; if she can't trust you now she never __will__. _He started again, working on keeping his cool. "As I was _trying to explain_, Sarah, there are no guarantees here for the simple fact that I have never tried to do this before, nor are there any records of it being done in the history of my kingdom. There has never been another champion but you. The country is, no doubt, in a state of anarchy as we speak if I have been lucky enough to have not been invaded by one of my neighbors in my absence," he tersely smiled. "I _do_ employ a prime minister but the job is strictly a figurehead position and, frankly, considering who they elected for the last term before I left," and at this he looked up like 'why me?' "that yeti who was following you about when you were there is better mentally equipped to run matters of state. I _must_ get back, can't you see? The majority of my subjects are so stupid that they need someone telling them what to do simply in order to function! If you won't do it for me, do it for the safety of your _friends_."

Sarah was in a bind. On the one hand…but on the other…damn it was risky, but unfortunately he did seem to hold the argument if the denizens of Goblin City were the majority demographic for creatures in his kingdom. How could she be absolutely sure he wouldn't take more than necessary (providing that he was telling the truth)? But one matter had to cleared up and now in Sarah's mind before she made any further obligations.

"Do you turn the children that are wished to you into goblins?" The question itself made her feel physically ill but if he said yes she would wash her hands of him - either that or try to kill him right then and there with her bare hands the thought filled her with such revulsion.

"Goblins are dumb as bricks with hides to match their thick heads and they multiply faster than rodents on their own - why in the world would I voluntarily create more?!The humans that are offered me are sent to a province just outside my jurisdiction as a part of a very old truce agreement between myself and a neighboring queen. There is a small settlement town there. Some are taken in as general servants, midwives, even a musician or two if they show talent - there are even rumors of an occasional love affair - but on the whole they are free to live their lives as they wish - forever. That is what it means to "become one of us" - to become practically immortal but to never be able to return home, and before you accuse me of being a tyrant and a slave-trader it has to do with how the time-space continuum affects the different worlds. Time is a tricky thing and it happens to move exceedingly quickly in yours - it was no jest that I had to reorder time while you were there. A human who is suddenly 800 years old cannot survive in _this plane_," he gestured roughly to their surroundings. "We have had a few cases where wishees have tried to escape but only two - a pair- ever made it: the moment they touched Aboveground soil they crumbled to dust," he spat coldly. "We warn them and warn them and tell them why they can't return - it's no secret - but some people never listen," he said with a slight shake of the head and an irritated sigh, looking away.

_Truce__, eh? It isn't hard to imagine the Goblin Army losing - or __causing__ a __war__, for that matter. Human captives, though…__still__ an unsavory business, it's almost like selling souls. …at least they get to __stay__ human, and the trade-off is __eternal life_. _Eternity in Fairyland - how many people have wished for __that__ over the centuries? And he says that apart from leaving they have complete liberty, it's like having a colony on __Mars__. _Sarah mentally gritted her teeth at what she was about to do. "…you said _some_ of my power."

"Yes."

"…how much?" she cautiously ventured.

"It will all depend. It could be as little as a bit of trust, perhaps more, I don't honestly know. Could you ever find it in yourself to _trust_ me, Sarah?"

Sarah certainly wasn't ready for that! The question was so gentle, but the man behind it was so dangerous…_or __is__ he? __Oh__!_ Her response was only an anguished whisper and a small headshake. "I barely even _know_ you."

His voice became equally soft. "How true." He sat there, quietly taking in her eyes, his steady gaze almost mesmeric. Suddenly self-conscious, Sarah looked away and tried to change the tone back.

"Besides, if I dohave that much power over you, why can't I just wish you back?"

"Oh come now, do you _really_ want to be held personally responsible for every time I have to transform? Every time I make a crossing to this world or elsewhere? It would have to be flawless, on the dot, and verbal, no matter where you are; no, no, no, far too complicated. In any event, easily given and easily _taken away_. I would much prefer to earn what I need."

"You mean I could just wish anything about you right now and it would really happen?"

"Yes, and before you get any brilliant ideas with which to torment _me_, please don't wish me dead - I will die."

_My god, he __is__ serious. _Sarah made a mental note to turn his hair pink if he turned out to be too much of a jerk, though.

"One last thing and I'm afraid this one _is_ a bit of an imposition: while my current magical capabilities seem to be limited to what _I_ would consider parlor tricks - the odd crystal, disappearing, teleporting, things of a very basic nature - I have no way of providing for myself in this form and certainly no place to stay."

Sarah thought for a moment.

"Would you mind being an owl again?"

"Are you _really _that cruel, Sarah?"

Sarah winced her eyes closed and rested her forehead on her hand - there wasn't much of a choice. Besides, what could he even _do_ to make a living? He'd probably never worked a day in his life. _Dancing on tables maybe, shut up brain._

_She doesn't personally like me at present but she __still__ finds me attractive, now __that's__ interesting. Perhaps this isn't as lost of a cause as I was beginning to think. _"I'd been meaning to ask but there were far more important things to be discussed first; who's Pedro?"

It took Sarah's brain a second to register what he'd seen her 'Vote for Pedro' tee. She sat back up smiling. "Oh it's nobody, it's a character from this movie _Napoleon Dynamite_. You could kind of sum up the idea as a 'root for the underdog' sort of thing - don't do it because it's popular, do it because it's the right thing to do."

He started again, softly. "Just give me a _chance_, Sarah, that's all I'm asking for. You seem like the type that would _do_ it." He laughed a little. "You want an underdog? You're looking at one," he said playfully, opening his arms. "I've literally been made into a storybook villain. Who on earth is going to vote for _me_?"

"3500 pubescent girls," she said flatly.

"No, no, that's besides the point," he teased, shaking his hands slightly as if to fend off the idea "now work with me here-"

"And I hope you all have a really good time together," she began to tease him back.

"_**Sarah**_,"

"_Alright_, I'll _do_ it!" she laughed "but you have to admit it's asking a lot."

"I will work to make myself indispensable," he inclined his head toward her with a hand to his heart, playful mischief dancing in his eyes. Sarah noticed the waitress coming back to their table. And sighed.

"Are you hungry?"

"Famished. Haven't eaten since this morning."

"Because that poor girl over there" she pointed "is serving about 40 tables on her own and even if we did managed to order, I don't think we'd see her again. Let's go."


	3. Underdog

Chapter 3 - Underdog

After a quick trip to Suzy's and what turned out to be Jareth's first fast-food experience (it earned a mixed review: tastes good but in bad taste), Sarah drove them both back to her place.

"I'm afraid my apartment is kind of small - I don't even have a guest room. I'll dig out the air mattress for you; you'll have to sleep in the living room."

"Very well. Do what you think will be necessary," he said, pretending to look around as if seeing the place for the first time. _She certainly doesn't need to be thinking of me as a __stalker__._

"Well, I couldn't exactly imagine _you_ happily scrunched up on the couch every night for however long this is going to take," Sarah stated a bit sarcastically, pointedly looking at him. _Maybe it won't be so bad not being alone for a little while _she reflected in light of how the place had given her the creeps right before she went out tonight…_wait_… "Can you, by any chance, see people in those crystal balls you make? I mean, not to immediately incriminate you or anything but I was feeling very closely watched when I got home today after work and there was nobody here and all the blinds were closed…were you _here?!_"

_And the cat's out of the bag already._ "I don't know what came over me, it was terribly inconsiderate towards you and it was a very bad thing to do, can you ever possibly forgive me?"

Sarah turned back to face him, ready to give him the tongue-lashing of his life when she saw his face: it was such a ridiculous half-caricature of guilt that she started laughing right then and there in spite of herself. "Your 'penitent sinner' needs work."

"Sorry love, no previous experience," he drawled with a guilty smile.

"Oh man, tell me about it."

His entire face lit up starting with his eyes and he looked as if he were about to burst at the seams.

"No, wait - on second thought _don't_ tell me; I don't think I want to know," Sarah waved him off as she walked away toward the hall closet.

"Pity, there _was_ that case of three duchesses-"

"I said I didn't want to know!" she called back from inside the closet on her hands and knees, pushing past a myriad of things, looking for the mattress box and pump.

"Fine, be a spoil-sport," he teased. "Would you mind terribly if I changed back into my regular attire? Current aboveground fashion, in my personal opinion, is neither flattering nor comfortable."

At last she'd found the equipment and dragged it to the fore of the closet so she could at least get her knees off the hard, wooden floor. "What you normally wear, from what little I saw, is considered pretty risqué in most aboveground circles. At least parts of it."

"Oh _**really**_?" he deeply drawled in a suggestive tone into her right ear - he had teleported right behind her; he was so close that Sarah could feel the radiant warmth from his body on her back, his breath on her neck sending treacherous flutters down her spine, really scarily driving home the point that she had only been barely fifteen when she had last seen him and she had, thankfully due to her youth, not really been fully aware of…_him_. Sarah managed to maintain her composure, forcing herself to stand up vertically with the stuff without leaning back at all for support, walking around his still-kneeling form as he looked up at her a bit amused at how she'd handled the situation. He had changed into a white underground tunic - nearly open to the waist - and gray breeches with the signature black leather boots and gloves, hair and eyes back to their crazy selves.

"I think it's past time to set some ground rules. This might not be much but it _is_ my domain and I'll have you remember you're only here because I'm allowing it."

"Absolutely," he crisply replied as he got up and followed her back into the living room. She unrolled the air mattress on an open area of the floor between the living room and the dining area - it was only twin size but it would do - and plugged in the electric pump to start filling it.

"Rule #1 - personal space. Respect it or you're going to be spending a lot of nights sleeping in the hall outside my front door. Don't come into a closed room if I'm in there, especially if it's the bathroom - at least have the courtesy to knock and ask if it's all right. It's okay to help yourself to the kitchen if you get hungry, just don't eat me out of house and home - my financial resources aren't limitless. If you notice I'm running low on something write it down," she pointed to a notepad and pen over by the phone. "I should've thought of this before but is there anything that you _can't_ consume…I mean…just because of _what _you are?"

"Thankfully my constitution will tolerate salt even in large quantities, but I can't touch iron; I don't suppose you own real silverware?"

"Nope, that stuff's _way_ too expensive and hard to maintain but I see what you mean; I'll have to get you plastic utensils." _And change every doorknob in the __house__, oh __man__… _"Any metal you see in this place - heck in this entire world - is most likely going to have some amount of iron in it so, for your own sake, be cautious. I'll come up with something to deal with what of it you might come in contact with in here where it can't be avoided." The bed was all pumped up; she removed the nozzle and screwed it closed, turning off the pump and fitting the sheets on, finishing with a green fleece throw from the couch with a light leaf pattern on it.

_She likes green; I'll have to remember that._ "Is that all_,_ your majesty?" he teased.

"That's most of it," she smiled. "Don't go snooping through my drawers or _spying_ on me anymore and I'm sure we'll be fine."

_I look forward to breaking down those little barriers. And you'll __let__ me, Sarah. You'll __want__ me to._

"Well, it's getting awfully late and I have to go to work in the morning. Keep what hours you like but try to be quiet when I'm sleeping; I wake up easy."

"Are you tired, Sarah?"

"Jareth, I am exhausted! I've been up since five this morning, I just spent a twelve-hour day in the lab, and it's almost eleven - I'm turning in."

"Perfect."

"What?_"_

"Just humor me, Sarah - this is easier when the player is tired."

"Jareth I'm in no mood for a game, I need sleep!"

"And you'll get it, I promise. This won't take long. Consider it as your first test in trusting me. Do you mind if I move a bit of furniture out of the way?"

_Darn __pushy__, there'll be no arguing the point I see, his mind's made up._ "Put it back the way you found it," she said wearily.

Jareth proceeded to push the coffee table back to the couch and the recliner to the wall, making a decent amount of free space in the room. "This is a very simple and a very old game, Sarah: you fall, I catch you."

"Oh, I hate that game. We used to have to play it when I took theater back in high school - half the time nobody was actually ready to support your weight and they'd drop you anyway. Besides, don't you have to have at least half-a-dozen people to play this?"

"You forget I can teleport."

Sarah sighed. "Fine, let's just get this over with. You'd better not drop me; this floor is pretty unforgiving."

"I won't. That's the whole point. You have to trust me," he said with a smug little smile.

Sarah rolled her eyes as she walked to the center of the room. _This is __crazy__._

"Take off your shoes."

"Oh right; I forgot."

"You forget?"

"Not when it's important," she quickly countered, knowing full well what he was alluding to.

"It's all right, Sarah; just _relax_. Think what a longday it's been and how tired you are. This won't even take five minutes."

Sarah stood in the middle of the room and closed her eyes. _Falling. How hard can it be? And he's darn fast from the looks of it. Here's hoping he's __strong__… _"…I can't do it!"

"Of _course_ you can! You're Sarah Williams, you can do anything!"

"Oh yeah, right," she laughed, her eyes still closed.

"Do you have any idea how many hundreds of people have tried to get through that maze? You can do anything you set your mind to, Sarah, I am sure of it."

Before she knew it his hands were expertly kneading her shoulders, tight and sore from sitting still too long typing. She knew she should slap him off but it just felt so _good_, she was _melting_ into his touch as his dexterous fingers worked on down from the base of her neck to her shoulder blades and back up again.

_Too__ good, oh god…_ Sarah felt her neck go limp, her muscles giving way in the wake of the sensation, her aching back screaming at him to go lower, knowing he wouldn't since he was attempting half-assedly to make a good impression at the moment. When she started to involuntarily lean back into him Jareth knew that, in spite of how enjoyable it was having her like this - literally melting in his hands - the reaction that he had been working towards had arrived and he knew what he had to do: without any warning he disappeared, dropping her_._ Sarah screamed in surprise, falling backwards - only to be caught by rock-solid hands three feet from the floor. Panting in relief, she caught her breath and did the next logical thing.

"**Okay****, that was **_**not nice**_**!**"

"But I thought you were enjoying the massage," he teased, "and it _did_ get you to fall. Now that I've proven that I _can_ catch you, will you try it again?"

"Like I trust you now!"

"Please?" His face genuinely echoed the word.

Sarah sighed. _Just do it and he'll stop bugging you._ This time she folded her arms across her chest mummy-style and deliberately fell forward, her brain firing all kinds of warning signals that she'd only break her nose if she was lucky - caught, only four feet this time, same solid grip. _Who would've thought that someone so lithe would be so __strong__? Maybe it has to do with his being…whatever he is - what __is__ he?_ "Just out of sheer curiosity, what _are_ you anyway?"

"I don't believe inquiries into one's genus are normally accepted topics of polite conversation."

The suddenly embarrassed look on Sarah's face as she stood back up made him laugh.

"Just for you, love," he smiled and continued in tone of feigned grandeur, as if even he were tiring of the title: "Leannan Sidhe, one of the oldest trooping clans of the old-order Celtic Fae."

_I suppose the __real__ faux pas here would be asking him how __old__ he is._

"Yes it would; you certainly wouldn't like the answer. I think I'm holding together quite nicely in spite of it, thank you very much."

"You can read my mind?!"

"Of course! Almost any of my kind with half a brain can do _that_."

_Was he listening in earlier? Best not to think about it; he's definitely paying attention __now__._

"Don't worry, it's not an ongoing thing - only when I feel like it. And it has to be close-range."

"That's reassuring."

"Shall we resume?" Sarah eyed him a bit warily. "I'll finish that massage when this is over if you like. If you _trust_ me that much, to _invade_ your 'personal space' again." There was a bit of a dare in his voice, in his eyes, like 'come on, look who you're afraid of.'

Sarah fell.

Again.

And again.

And again.

And each time Jareth caught her lower and lower to the floor from absolutely impossible positions, above her, below her, watching her relax more and more, knowing that, at this moment, she trusted him - implicitly - with her life. Perhaps she didn't even see it that way. Perhaps she just hadn't thought of it. But that was exactly what she was doing.

_Oh Sarah, if you had any idea what this means to me…and it's already starting to __work__…_ He could feel the recesses of his old power beginning to spark back to life, resuming tentative currents through his body. Time to show her just what she'd done. Sarah fell one more time but this time there were no lithe hands to stop her fall - she simply _floated to the ground_ as if she were underwater. It was the most wondrous, rapturous feeling in the world, to just be able to _float_ like that in midair. When she opened her eyes she saw Jareth standing a couple of feet away with his right arm still outstretched to her, hand open, the way it must've been to guide her final descent just now. He knelt down beside her, smiling, and gave her a hand up.

"I literally couldn't have done that without your cooperation and your willingness to tentatively put your trust in me. It directly involved exercising power over you. I can feel my own power starting to come back already," he said, stretching his hands and wrists, "thank you."

"_That_ was some of my power?"

"Just a little."

The idea of giving him power suddenly made her very nervous. How could she be absolutely certain that once he was restored he wouldn't just turn against her? What was to stop him from tricking her out of allof it?

Seeing worry suddenly cloud her features, Jareth decided on a more conventional approach.

"Sarah, what's troubling you?"

"Can't you just _look_?"

"I thought it might be more polite to _ask_. What's wrong, love?"

She uneasily looked up at him. "…are you angry with me?"

Jareth calmly looked into her worried eyes and let out a long breath, relieved it was only that, shaking his head. "Not anymore. Not for a long time."

"It's just that-"

"You think that when I've got my strength back I might seek revenge?" He winced suddenly when he realized that he'd just openly read her mind again. "Sorry, it's an old habit. Where I'm from you can't trust anybody." He sighed. "I don't want to be your enemy, Sarah, I really don't. Look, I know this is unspeakably awkward, but…" He quietly regarded her for a moment. "Get some rest; we can talk more in the morning."

He walked right past her and started to pull the furniture back where it had been, carefully lining up the pieces to the last millimeter with his owl-sight. Sarah was stunned at such an open confession from someone who seemed to pride himself on appearing impenetrable, but he _was_ right, it was getting late - she'd just said so herself - and she was in no shape for a lengthy discourse.

"Believe me or no - it's your choice - but I promise I have never tried to actively hurt you." Sarah thought back - no real harm had come to her in spite of her trials and travails in the labyrinth. Not even the army - it seemed like they had almost been shooting to miss. And the fireys couldn't be accounted for, they were clearly insane. And the _ball…_

"So you actually believe in the recreational use of mind-altering substances, then?" she asked incredulously.

"Only when administered by a responsible party - which was _me_," he splayed his fingers over his heart, pointedly looking at her, "and that was hardly addictive." He sat down in the middle of the couch and put his arms over the back, resting one ankle on the opposite knee.

_Sheesh__, _she took a deep breath_, __alrighty, then__. _

"Do I still get that massage?" she asked timidly.

"I thought you might've changed your mind the way you were going on-"

"Let me go get changed," she neatly side-stepped the question and simply walked out of the room.

That got a raised eyebrow.

_Did she actually decide to believe me? Will she regret this later? Oh, who __gives__ a damn, she wants me to __touch__ her again!_

Several minutes passed before she emerged again from the bathroom, her hair down at long last, crimped a bit from the braid. She was wearing yet another of the same formless shirts humans seemed to adore and long baggy drawstring pants to go with it, both light blue.

_It's just as well,_ Jareth thought. _The less tempting, the better._ "Are you ready for sleep then?"

"Yeah."

"Then I would strongly suggest that we do this in your bedroom."

She shot him a questioning look. It was a bit annoying having to constantly counter her distrust.

"By the time I'm through you're going to be so relaxed I seriously doubt you'll be able to _move_, let alone _walk_."

"All right_…_" She sounded half-committal but she _did_ walk into the room with him close on her heels.

"Sit up on the bed facing away from me or lie on your front, it won't make much difference." _Please__ don't sit up, I'll be more tempted to kiss your __neck__… _

Sarah looked at him a bit defiantly and, deliberately keeping their eyes locked, lay down.

…_um… _"Unless you actually _want_ me straddling you, love, you're going to have to move to the edge of the bed."

Sarah blushed profusely. "Whoops," she nervously laughed, "right."

_Someday, Fortuna, __please__! I'll happily lose my next war in __exchange__! _

Sarah crawled to the extreme right side of the bed all the way to the edge and lay back down, resting her cheek on her hands, looking away. Jareth drew her long, thick brown hair to the side almost with reverence and began to carefully massage her stiffened upper back with slowly deliberate, thick strokes, working over the shoulder blades thoroughly before perusing lower. It would've been easier - and _far_ more enjoyable - if she didn't have on the loose top garment but one can't have everything - right away.

At some point Sarah's mind stopped registering that that rapturous feeling in her back was being caused by the hands of her former arch-nemesis and was aware of it as fields of delicious, hypnotically repetitive sensation only. He began to slowly work each individual vertebrae out with his thumbs and when he got to about the middle of her back she involuntarily let escape a small sound of pleasure; it took all of Jareth's willpower not to respond in any way or even miss a beat. Perhaps he _did_ linger a bit too long at the small of her back but what the hell? She almost seemed not to notice - or care.

It would be impossible to describe what Sarah was feeling; it was like he was just _willing_ her muscles to relax, feeling muscles she didn't even know she had just release their iron grip like that. She never wanted it to end, it was nothing short of heavenly. He rippled his hands back up her shoulder muscles and the surrounding tissues, his rhythm lulling. She was half-asleep by the time he quietly intoned in the lower part of his register

"Put your arms down to your sides, Sarah." She _slowly_ obeyed, proof positive that he was doing an admirable job. His steady, gentle grip undulated over her shoulders and around the base of her neck to venture slightly lower down her front. He knew what he was doing would be protested violently if he didn't quickly explain himself. "I promise I won't go any lower than _this_, Sarah, but I noticed that you carry a heavy square bag with you at times on your left shoulder and…..ah, yes, you _do_ have a knot there," he stated, satisfied at being correct as tension Sarah hadn't even noticed just blessedly melted away under his ministrations. As he finished by massaging both of her arms one at a time, spending a healthy amount of time gently working out the wrists and each finger, Sarah was drifting in and out of a light sleep. He had begun to softly hum but what it was she couldn't quite make out.

…_so strangely familiar…_

At last the delicate proceedings came to a close. He had just finished her right hand when she became vaguely aware that he had gently grasped it and was touching his lips to her fingertips. "Goodnight, Sarah."

"…..'night…"

He bent to look at her - her eyes were closed and there was a wisp of a smile left on her face.

_A good night, indeed_, he thought with a little smile of his own as he quietly shut the door as best he could without touching the handle on his way out, extinguishing the lights with his newly-acquired powers - her allowing him to do what he had just done had lent them a bit more definition. Going over to his own little makeshift cot, he lay down without bothering to undress and curled up in the soft blanket she'd given him, savoring the feel of a real bed after having gone so long without one. In moments he was asleep.


	4. The Normal Life

Chapter 4 - The Normal Life (such as it is)

Jareth was involuntarily awoken the next morning at a quarter to six by light streaming in his face. He mumbled still half asleep "…if you don't leave my quarters immediately you're asking for a one-way trip to the _Bog_."

"Sorry, you're not king of the castle right now," a female voice teased.

He reluctantly pried open his eyes to the unnaturally bright room, recognized Sarah, and finally remembered just where he was - on the floor between her living room and dining area on a makeshift bed of sorts.

"Is it Her Majesty's normal habit to wake sleeping persons living under her roof before the sun arises or am I just lucky_?_"

"Sorry, Jareth, but I have to show you some things before I leave for work today." From behind her back she produced a large, thick gray roll and quirked a smile. "This is duct tape and it is going to be your best friend for as long as you have to remain in human lodging. Not only can you technically 'fix' just about anything with it if you feel the need to be truly primitive - a lot of human males swear by this stuff, it's so sad," she laughed a little, "but I thought we might try it as a temporary solution for covering iron that you might come in contact with in the apartment. I can't make the world safe but I can at least try in here. So…that's your job today; wrap anything you might be touching that could potentially harm you - faucets, levers, doorknobs, hinges…you get the idea." _Geez, I feel like I'm baby-proofing my house._ "Would you mind getting up for a minute?"

"Yes," he said, turning over.

"Jareth, I don't have time to argue with you and I have to make sure you know how the microwave works."

"…very well," Jareth sighed, stiffly getting up from the low bed. _That's the __first__ thing that's changing the __moment__ I can morph objects again._ With a snap of his fingers and a shower of glitter he was in a fresh wardrobe, burgundy and black today. Sarah hadn't been expecting it and had to mentally admit the ability would be nice.

"I wish-"

Jareth's gloved hand quickly clamped over her mouth, open panic in his eyes.

"Be very careful what you wish for, Sarah." He slowly removed his hand, catching his breath. Sarah was genuinely taken by surprise at his sudden reaction but it made sense - a wish turned into the trial of her life; a wish made him lose everything.

"…it would be awfully nice sometimes, though. I wouldn't have to get up so early…"

"I'll look into it for you," he stated matter-of-factly, crossing his arms, just a hint of a smile at one corner of his mouth.

"Really? You're serious_?_"

"I said I would make myself an invaluable asset; I'm a Sidhe of my word. Now what was _so_ important that you're dragging me out of bed at this ungodly hour?" He followed her into the kitchen and she gestured to a small, boxish device on a countertop.

"There's metal in the appliance but significantly less than any part of the stove - the parts you should touch are plastic and glass so at least that shouldn't be a problem." Thankfully her refrigerator was a cheap model so the handles were plastic. She opened the freezer and took out a frozen meal. "When you get hungry around lunch, pick one of these out and follow the instructions on the back of the box to the letter - it's pretty simple. Use the number pad on the microwave to punch in the time and press start. It should stop beeping at you when you take it back out but be careful of the interior - that's all metal. Breakfast around here is usually anything you can assemble. Oh, one more thing." She went back into the living room and started quickly digging through a pile of magazines on the coffee table while Jareth looked on, curious about what she was up to - at least until she found the object of her query - a huge clothing catalogue. "You can wear pretty much whatever you want in here as long as you're decent but you can't wear _that_ out _there_," she pointed first to him and then to the front door. "Just flip through this, see if you can find anything you like. I get the feeling you can duplicate just about anything with that little trick you do."

"Still so adamantly against fashion_,_ are we?"

"Jareth, look, the last thing you want to do here is attract attention. It's going to be hard enough trying to hide who you are and why you're here without you parading around downtown in something that went out of the mainstream for my world over three centuries ago!"

Jareth lightly sighed. _Different people, different customs. Just swallow your pride and __do__ it; it wont kill you and she's really going out on a limb to do this in the first place. Almost like she __cares_… "What brought on the sudden change-of-heart?"

"What?"

His eyebrows knit in worry. "Why are you so concerned about me?"

Sarah sadly smiled at the familiar phrase - just what she'd put to Hoggle when she was trapped in the oubliette.

_Compared to the freedom and power __he's__ no doubt gotten used to __this__ must be like __prison__ - he's __literally__ at my mercy and I'm being nice to him._ She just shrugged.

"Inexperienced, distraught Goblin King - big, scary, alien world." Just a wisp of sympathy crossed her features, like she knew the feeling. She abruptly broke the mood. "Anyway, if all goes well in conferences today they should let me go early - I ought to be back around three this afternoon and we can go shopping for kitchen knobs and handles. The one that's been bugging me is the doors, though; about the only alternative to steel in that size is glass and none of those lock-"

"I'm sure it will be fine, Sarah. Thank you for going through the trouble for me."

"Yeah, well I've got to run - you wouldn't believe the traffic around here in the morning. Have fun and try not to get into too much trouble, okay? I'll see you later!"

She grabbed her travel mug and briefcase, slinging it over her shoulder like a messenger bag, and ran out the front door, slamming it so hard that knickknacks on a nearby shelf rattled. Jareth laughed a little, shaking his head.

_That__ girl has __got__ to learn how to slow down or she's going to run herself into an early __grave__. _The sudden thought of Sarah dying was not a happy one but as long as she remained here, in this world, one day she _would_ die and there would be nothing he could do to stop it. The thought of just taking her - even before she made that fatal wish - had occurred to him time and time again but it just wouldn't've worked; she had to wish it herself to get there legally, he would be bringing the entire High Court down upon his head if he acted otherwise.

_Maybe if all goes well here, someday, when her world is falling apart, she __will__ call and I will __never__ be so stupid as to let her go again._ He looked back at the clock on the wall in the kitchen area - 5:53. _There will be __plenty__ of time to plan this out right,_ he thought as he gingerly flicked the switches that stopped the power to the lamps - the metal covers would _have_ to go, he would remind her - and staggered back to the air mattress when an idea hit him - he could sleep in Sarah's bed. Walking down the small, dark hallway with quick strides, he entered her room - the door was ajar, the bed made. _I don't even leave a __scent__ if I don't want to and I can make __everything__ the way I found it again_, he thought with a devious smirk. _She'll __never know__. _Crossing the room and ripping off his boots he slipped under the covers, leaving the rest on as a sign of odd respect in spite of what he was doing. _She's lucky I was too tired to disrobe last night or that rude wakeup call could've been rather __interesting_. He usually slept in the nude. The sheets still smelled like her - lavender and rosemary and something else he couldn't quite name. Sarah. He breathed in her pillow, savoring the scent, and closed his eyes.

* * *

Cup of java in hand, again, Sarah sat at the oblong glass conference table, listening to a rehash argument that should've been canned six months ago: what the company wanted them to do was, to the best of their knowledge - and their knowledge was the best, dammit, this was a government agency - impossible! Physically impossible. The vehicle in question would have to be vertically compact and as long as a city bus. Crazy! And yet they thought GELA was simply holding out information in favor of a higher bid.

_Idiots,_ she thought, taking another sip of her coffee. _We really __do__ have better things to be doing than chasing our tails for these idiots who couldn't even build a __normal__ car if their lives depended on it - they're just fashion designers for crying out loud! And they're asking __us__ for __miracles__. They don't even care about the long-term outcome here - all they know is that 'green' sells so they'll build a __prairie wind schooner __if they think it'll bring in better profits._ At least 3:00 was rapidly drawing nigh - 2:46. _They can't go on like this indefinitely; we'll have to stop for lunch and then I'll bail. I wonder what Jareth has been doing to pass the time. Please let him have stayed inside the apartment! At least I've got a lot of books - if nothing else he can at least read…I hope…oh nonsense, he can speak English, why couldn't he read it? He must've learned English before there was an America from the accent. I mean, he's been alive for at least, what, a couple hundred years? You don't just twiddle your thumbs for __that__ long! It might be interesting seeing just what all he __does__ know, I hadn't thought of that…_

A tiny, harsh whisper broke her reverie. "Sarah!"

_Oh!_ She looked over - it had been Irina to her right. The suits were gathering their debris off the table and shoveling it back into their black-leather briefcases - meeting adjourned.

"Are you feeling all right, Sarah? You were very quiet today," Irina asked, concerned. In spite of how many years she had lived in the country, just a hint of her Russian accent remained.

_Actually I'm imbedded in personal turmoil - I've just become the proud owner of a centuries-old __fae monarch__ and I haven't a clue as to what to __do__ with him. _"I'm just tired, that's all. And besides, anything worth saying to these clowns has been said three months ago."

"I know what you mean. We are all getting tired of this game but money talks. You arrived here _early_ today - you have already been in for eight hours, yes? Go home; I'm sure the boss will understand."

"Are you sure?"

"_Positive_. Leave me your notes. I'll put them on your desk when we're finished. Take a nap, get a _man_ - you have not had a life in years!" she teased as Sarah started walking away.

"You sound like my stepmother!"

"That's me - the evil Russian scientist," she laughed. "See you tomorrow!"

* * *

Sarah turned the key and walked into her apartment almost biting her lip, having absolutely no idea what to expect. To her amazement, Jareth was seated at her computer, the user manual tossed carelessly to the side on the floor. There were a few books on the coffee table - old tomes from her college days; math and science. Dishes were still on the kitchen table along with the open catalogue. He addressed her without turning around.

"I only had a few occasions where the tape was necessary today; I presumed that you wouldn't want your entire house wrapped if we were going to be replacing most of the fixtures anyway - oh, light boxes; we need those, too."

"Light boxes?…oh, switch covers! Sure, I can do that." She walked over to the computer and looked over his shoulder to see what he was doing. The entire screen was filled with text…not just any text, mind you, both of their names were mentioned repeatedly and it read like an epic soap opera. _Fan fiction, oh brother. _"Do you have any idea how ludicrous it is that you actually read the fan fiction people write about you?"

"I believe we have a right to know what's being said about us. You wouldn't believe some of the drivel these girls dream up. Take this one for instance; if she makes me out to be any more of a sap I'm seriously considering giving her a yeast infection."

"_**JARETH!**_"

"What?"

"You can't just punish somebody because they're a bad writer!"

"Why _not?_"

"…it just isn't _right!_"

"Well _this_ certainly isn't _either_. She goes on quite a bit about you as well," he stated quite placidly in the face of the reaction he was getting and panned up the screen a couple of paragraphs. Incensed but curious, Sarah started reading where Jareth pointed to on the screen with his finger. She suddenly felt as if all her teeth should be rotting out of her mouth it was so disgustingly saccharine, her character was just blathering on and on and on…

"…maybe just this _once_…"

Jareth made a slight nod of acknowledgment in her direction with a small smile on his lips. _Finally, something we __agree__ on._ Forming an obscure, arcane symbol with his hands, he carefully leveled his gaze and aim at the screen while Sarah curiously looked on, a bit nervous…

* * *

Meanwhile in an undisclosed location…

"Oh come on, not _again__!_"

* * *

Jareth playfully sighed in relief as he lowered his hands to his lap, unfolding them. It was then that Sarah noticed with some dismay that he had been making a list, presumably of offending authors who had either already tasted Jareth's peculiar ideas about punishment or would be soon. Sarah reached down and shut off the surge protector strip, effectively killing power to the entire machine.

"I believe that's enough chaos and mayhem for one day." _Please don't make me regret being nice to him._

"But I'm getting out of practice," he pouted. It reminded Sarah of how many times Toby had pulled that face on her - trying to get out of being trouble by being cute.

_He really __is_ _kind of like a kid_, she suddenly thought. _A big kid who's always gotten his way._ She wasn't entirely sure what to do with that little piece of information but she resolved to stash it away for later examination. "We have to go shopping, remember oh Vengeful One?"

"Of course; shopping always comes before vengeance," he said with a serious smile that made Sarah momentarily rest her face in her hand.

_This__ one's a real piece of work…__moving on__…_ "Did you find anything to wear in that catalogue?"

"Perhaps. Would this be suitable?" He walked to the center of the room and in another of his characteristic sprays of glitter his burgundy tunic and tight black trousers became a button-down dress shirt and slacks of the same colors, his long hair back in a tight low ponytail, eye markings gone. He still had on his black leather gloves and boots; the boots were discreetly hidden beneath the pant legs, though.

"Not bad," she had to admit, "but you're going to have to lose the gloves." Sarah was surprised to see the sudden mixture of fear and pain in his expression as he uneasily looked away. "What's the matter? Haven't you ever let anybody see your hands? It's nothing to be embarrassed of - we do it here all the time…it's not that, is it?" She was suddenly uneasy herself. _What's he hiding?_

_The truth, no matter how brutal_. "I am sorry Sarah, we shouldn't keep secrets from one another. You have the right to know." And with that the gloves vanished and he winced his eyes closed, bowing his head, ashamed, not wanting to see her reaction to his hideousness. He held out his hands, palm-side up. Sarah walked up to him cautiously to see what he thought was so awful. To her amazement the palms of his hands were actually several shades paler than the rest of his ivory skin; an unearthly, icy pallor one would swear was _blue_. It looked oddly similar to the way someone with a dark skin tone could have extremely light palms and soles of their feet, only in reverse since it couldn't get any lighter. It wasn't all that bad, really, just extremely out of the ordinary. Sarah carefully reached out and turned the left one over to see the other side and heard his sudden intake of air as she took his hand, unafraid, unabashed. The sensation of skin there was an extremely rare occurrence and therefore all the more powerful. His nails were nearly the same color with what appeared to be a pearlescent sheen. It looked so cold but his skin was still warm to the touch.

"It is a deformity among my own species, often a sign of bad bloodlines. I hide it to avoid controversy."

"Bad bloodlines?"

He opened his eyes and regarded her cautiously. "…there aren't many of us left from the royal house. Intermarriage and…"

_oh__…Desperate enough to marry close blood relatives, now __that's__ pretty hard up. …so __that's __why he's so vain, so insecure. And crazy - most pure-bred __anything __**is**__. It's starting to make sense now._ She couldn't deny that it made him look all that more exotic - the effect was almost _attractive_. She smiled - not a condescending 'holy-shit-that's-bad-I'm-so-sorry-goodbye' smile like he was used to seeing when he was forced to show this to others but a genuine smile - she actually liked it! "It suits you," she said quietly, looking over the other one.

For the first time in Jareth's insanely long life it was meant not as an insult but as a compliment and it was incredibly freeing. He wanted to grab her and kiss her full on the mouth right then and there but he knew his impetuousness would not be welcomed in the same manner. He would wait, wait until she wanted to explore his lips as she had just explored his hands - his inner sanctum and one of his best-kept secrets - without a moment's fear. She finally looked up at him. Even though he wasn't saying a word the look in his eyes spoke volumes - gratitude, relief,…longing? The one eye was a pure crystal blue, almost angelic, while the other was oddly dilated and brown, almost bestial.

"Is there a story behind your eyes, too?"

He surrendered a short, quiet laugh. "Not one for _tact_, are we? I got this in a fight when I was young."

Sarah rolled her eyes and nodded, looking away with a wry smile. "Now that one just sounds like you."

"I preferred it suiting me," he crooned, taking a step forward, closing the space between them, gently grasping the sides of her arms. _I preferred you __wanting__ me_ he desperately wished that he could will to her right now.

She swallowed. His touch, his voice were so sensual, so _warm_...

"Doorknobs!" She suddenly exclaimed, turning out of his grasp and grabbing her purse off the coffee table. "Are you ready?" He momentarily closed his eyes and concentrated - his hand marks disappeared.

"Ready." _For __anything._


	5. Reality on Both Sides of the Mirror

Chapt. 5 - ReAlItY oN bOtH sIdEs Of ThE mIrRoR

_Well, __that__ could've gone better but it certainly could've been far __worse_ Sarah reflected as she slammed her apartment door shut behind them with her body and heaved a sigh of relief, closing her eyes. _He has __got__ to learn about modern human society and __fast__. Thank God it was only Sprawl-mart. _

Jareth had displayed open curiosity about the craziest things, asking employees questions she would never dream of putting to anyone! She'd never been asked so many questions in her entire life as she had this one afternoon. And he wanted to know how everything worked, too, from the neon welcome sign to the checkout scanners. Being a science major, Sarah had explained what of it she knew to the best of her ability but he was quickly outstripping her technical knowledge; he'd have to learn how to look it up himself. It wasn't so much his curiosity that bothered her (that and perpetually wincing since he had to physically avoid contact with all the metal in the world - the shelves, the cart, the doors, the cans - everything) - it was how he seemed to be at a total loss as to how to relate to the people around him. He was either too candid and too honest or he was a complete snob, acting like the world was there to do his bidding.

_His __world probably __is__ there to do his bidding, sheesh. Figures I get stuck with a drama queen. Oh well, too late to be thinking about that now_. Jareth had walked into the kitchen and set down the bags on the dining room table before turning around to see if she was coming, only to see her still leaning against the door before marching into the kitchen herself with a look of annoyed resignation written on her face.

"Is everything alright, Sarah?"

"Yeah…I was just thinking about _you_, Mr. Socially Inept."

Jareth was surprised. "I take great offense at that! I'm quite the socialite at home when I get the chance, thank you very much!"

"And therein lies the problem. You are currently residing in a democracy; rich snobs exist here but royalty and titles don't. I'm afraid you're just going to have to get used to it. And as for your manners - which are impeccable by-the-way - they're far too genteel for this particular society. I know all this stuff goes against your grooming and everything but please try to remember for your own sake that you're trying to blend in here, not stand out. Case in point: if you were introduced to someone here, what would you do?"

"Man or woman?"

"It shouldn't matter."

"Bowing and kissing a hand are out of the question then, I take it?"

"…unless you're intentionally trying to come off as Prince Charming, yeah," Sarah laughed. "You have to be able to shake hands. Here, I'll show you, it's pretty easy." She extended her right hand and motioned for him to do likewise. He mimked her, not knowing what was going to happen, but when she took his hand in hers it remained stiff. "Relax, it's more of a moving clasp really…there you go," she laughed, "don't look at your hand, look at me….that's right."

He smiled back at her automatically - a cocky smile, but a smile nonetheless.

_At least that's __one__ reluctant step in the right direction_. She withdrew her hand and he clasped his shut tight, discreetly enjoying the last of her warmth, the feel of her soft skin on his palm.

"Is there anything I can do to help you change out these knobs?"

"I'm afraid not," Sarah said, cutting open a package of them with the screws already in the set. "All it would take is one of these bouncing off the floor in the wrong direction…" she pulled a screw out and showed it to him, right in front of his face. He sucked breath through his teeth in a snarl, pulling away.

"Damn, small but deadly."

"I thought so. I'm actually going to request that you stay back a bit while I do this, just in case."

"While I appreciate your concern, it still makes me feel incompetent. I'll have to find ways I can help you," he said, taking a few steps back to the far side of the kitchen table. She sat on the floor next to the sink, opened the cupboard and started unscrewing the inside of the knob with a Philips.

"At the rate we seem to be going, I get the feeling you're going to have plenty of time to figure something out. Any better idea of what we're going to have to do now that you've spent a little time here?"

"From what happened last night, I'm beginning to think that it will revolve exclusively around compromising your person, something I am _not_ pleased about. I shall take this as slowly and delicately as I can but you must understand that I'm acting for me here. Deliberately stripping someone of power is far from respectful no matter how it is gone about. Personal trust seemed like a safe enough place to start."

Sarah let out a breath and nodded. _At least he's being honest about it_. _Well, let's see, this doesn't __have__ to be morbid or unpleasant, what builds __trust__? _

"Would you mind telling me a bit about yourself?"

_She's __trying__! _"What would you like to know?"

From the excited glow in his eyes she knew that his entire world was at her disposal. Sarah thought a moment as she lined up the first wooden knob with the screw in the back and made the first prerequisite turns before picking up the screwdriver again.

"How did you end up in the Labyrinth?"

He surrendered a smile. "Why did you pick that one?"

"I don't know; a lot of things about you sort of make sense but that place just doesn't seem to fit you at all, you know what I mean?"

He nodded. "Well," he said, taking a seat at the small, round kitchen table, "it _wasn't_ supposed to be mine - by tradition at least. That sort of inheritance is supposed to go to 'the youngest son with no gold or jewels or property,' or so the stories go. Thing is my father died unexpectedly during a siege while I was still going through the nymph-developmental stage of my kind - I believe you would call it juvenile - and…I am not the youngest son. There was quite the scandal when they read the will, with rumors and slander about me spreading fast as fire. Years later I finally began to form my own theories on the matter, though: I remember my father was always so worried about my personal tastes, afraid that I was going to grow up too soft and squeamish." He looked away with a wry, nostalgic smile and quietly sighed, shaking his head. Then suddenly laughed. "That, and the logic, of course, that if I was put in charge of the _prison_, perhaps I would spend a little less time _in _it." At that she stopped dead at what she was doing and looked up at him - there was still a playfully guilty lip smile on his face. He put one finger to the side of his nose and brushed it across. "Not to worry, love, nothing serious, just a bit of repeated mischief and mayhem at the expense of some fairly high-ranking individuals…in public." He raised one elegant eyebrow at that last statement, a lazy smile spilling across his features.

"Juvenile delinquent, now why isn't that one surprising; I think I get the picture. You're the black sheep of the family, aren't you?" He rolled his eyes and nodded, looking away. She resumed her work.

"You said you had siblings?"

"Two brothers more and one sister. I'm second."

_And you've spent your whole life trying to be __first__, haven't you? I'll bet you got ignored a lot - but not right away. Got a taste for being the spoiled brat and then the __real__ brats came along_. It was strange how earthly the situation sounded. She was reminded of her own jealously of Toby after all those years of being the only one. _I'd bet money he was a bully growing up._

"And what about you?"

"What _about _me?"

"I can piece your past together with relative ease, with the separation of your parents and all, but your _present_…" he shook his head slowly staring off into space in the direction of the far wall, looking thoughtful and genuinely baffled at the same time. "Why did you give up acting? You have a talent."

Sarah blushed at the unexpected compliment and embarrassedly smiled.

"I liked it but there's no way to make a decent living doing it unless you get insanely lucky and hit the big time. They didn't coin the term 'starving artist' for nothing."

_No patronage system for the arts, apparently; what a pity._

"Besides, you have more to do with my current choice of career and sorry it isn't a compliment."

"What?"

"The epic-sized garbage heap outside of Goblin City."

"Yes, it _is_ a bit of an eyesore, isn't it? But I'm afraid I don't follow…"

"Non-toxic fuels and environmental clean-up procedures_?_"

Jareth nodded, resting his face in his hand, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Say no more," he said wearily.

_Well that's two down, fourteen to go in __here__, plus two doorknobs…what __can__ he be doing? _"Is there anything you particular you'd like to do while you're here?"

Jareth sat up straight, looking surprised at the offer. "Besides what's necessary to get me home? I hadn't given the matter much thought."

"Because if we're going to be stuck together for a while it might not be a bad idea for you to let me in on the kind of things you like if for no other reason than you're going to run out of reading material in a hurry."

"Well, let me see, what do you have in your world that I have in mine?" he wondered out loud quietly more to himself than to her, crossing his arms and looking up before deciding on what to ask. "I like music, dancing, literature, art, games - all sorts. Is that enough of a start?" He smiled roguishly, knowing he'd just asked for the world.

"It's a tall order, but it's doable," she teased him back. _At least he didn't ask for anything crazy like gladiators or a joust!_ "In fact," she moved on to the fourth knob, "tonight is open-house for all the art galleries in Denver - every first Friday of the month everybody has their openings with their new artists and the event is free to the public. Would you be interested in going?"

"I think I'd like that."

"Fine; we'll go after dinner." Ten more plus the doors… "About all those things you wanted to know in the store…"

"Yes?"

"If you feel up to some research get back on the computer like you were before, only this time type E-n-c-y-c-l-o-p-e-d-i-a in the search box."

* * *

Fourteen wooden knobs and two glass door handles later, Jareth was enthusiastically rattling on and on and _on_ about inventors Sarah had never even heard of.

_As if he didn't know almost everything __already_, she thought wryly, finishing the last snap-peas on her plate - she'd made chicken stir fry and it had gotten a thumbs up. _At least he isn't a picky eater._

"My dear, I can't afford to be a picky eater. What you saw of the castle - well…" he rolled his eyes, "add goblins, of course - is unfortunately pretty accurate. This really is a one-man operation," he said, lifting his water glass to indicate himself. "I prepare most of my own food. Would you trust one of those creatures to cook for you?" he quirked an eyebrow. "They think poisoning people is funny." He took a sip and put it back down. It was a weird thought: Jareth, the ages-old, near-almighty fae king and official wrangler of the worst rabble on earth - fixing his own meals just like Joe Blow living on his own.

"Magic doesn't do everything."

"You're doing it again." Sarah didn't have to mention what.

"Ah, but it doesn't seem to be bothering you as much as it did before," he pointed at her with a small, teasing smile, knowing that she was ever-so-slowly starting to get used to him. _Don't push it. Just add a little more to the mix everyday and she'll be in the palm of your hand before you know it._ The coldly technical side of Jareth's personality was telling him to play the game as well as he could like always but something more powerful was at work in him and he knew that for the first time in his near-eternal life he couldn't_. One day at a time, then_, he thought resignedly. It was almost bittersweet, having to become this vulnerable in order to truly win. _You won't be the only vulnerable one in the end,_ he reminded himself. He was going to have to curb his impatience and his temper and play the part of the perfect knight-errant if this was actually going to work. So far so good apart from the onset when he nearly lost it right up front. She certainly knew how to push his buttons but fortunately there had been no real cause for her to be angry at him of late. He hoped the pattern was a holding trend.

_He's being awfully __quiet__ all-of-a-sudden. What's going through that crazy head of his?_ No sooner had the devilish thought presented itself than Sarah gave into curiosity. _I wish I knew what Jareth's been thinking about __right now__. _Her mind was suddenly flooded with his voice, softer than if he had actually been speaking out loud but perfectly clear nonetheless. She'd pretty well caught the gist of his train-of-thought when it suddenly stopped dead: she looked up and he was openly gaping at her in shock - he had noticed!

"What? You do it to _me_ all the time!"

There wasn't much of a comeback for that kind of logic. Jareth's mind was reeling at the implications of what she had, in all probability, just heard, and, from the uncomfortable, worried look on her face as she stared at the wall with her hands in her lap, his fears seemed to be justified.

_Well, so much for __that_, he thought dejectedly. _Damn, __now__ what am I supposed to do?_

Sarah started again, sounding unsure of herself, still looking away. "…Jareth, would you promise me something?"

"What?" _Anything__, please just __end__ this travesty!_

"…don't play-act with me. I want you to be totally honest." She looked right at him. There was a false determination in her eyes that was vainly trying to mask the insecurity right behind it, turning the look almost pleading instead.

_Oh Sarah, do you really believe that I'd toy with your emotions just to get you to __like__ me? _he sighed aloud, _even __I __can understand __that__ fear. What do I have to do to make you __understand__? _

To her utter surprise he suddenly sat up as straight as possible, looking every inch the royal that he _was_, and he raised his right hand. "I, Jareth Ravensong, child of the House of Anwnn, present King of the Goblins and Lord of the Labyrinth, do solemnly swear by the Underground and all the powers therein that I will never knowingly lie to _you_, Sarah Angela Williams, nor will I act toward you in any way contrary to my true feelings to the best of my abilities _for all eternity_, provided that you come to no harm because of it. Is that satisfactory?" Sarah blinked a few times, her breathing quietly quickened, stunned. "You weren't expecting that, were you?" he cocked his head slightly aside, eying her reaction. That edge of mischief had crept back into his voice. Sarah was still struggling to make a meaningful sentence.

"…admittedly no, but y-yeah, that's good," she managed to blurt out, quickly nodding, amazed that he had just taken so serious an oath just to please her.

"It also benefits me that you know I must be unswervingly truthful in dealing with you."

"Oh right, the whole 'trust' thing."

He quietly looked down and away.

"…that was a very smart move, by-the-way."

"…thank you." Okay, that was awkward, he was openly admitting that she played the game well. He met her eyes.

"That was one thing I always liked about you: you have spirit and nerve. A sharp mind and a strong heart and you aren't afraid to use them."

"Don't you think you're laying it on a little thick?" she quietly laughed, not entirely sure how to react.

"It isn't flattery if it's true, Sarah."

It was almost unnerving how his eyes could just completely hold her with that penetrating, mesmeric gaze, as if he could see right through to her core and understand her without judging

_…so easy to get lost, so beautiful…damn it…must look away…_

"_Sarah_…" He still hadn't broken its spell, knowing that she was at present hopelessly in thrall. It would be so easy to enrapture her with his voice at this point…_no, there will be a time for that. I __hope__…_ "Shouldn't you be getting ready?" She was suddenly shocked back to reality and blushed furiously. He had started it but she'd just kept right on staring like a teenager!

"I've got to clean up first," she covered for herself, abruptly standing and making a move toward the plates. He made a slight gesture for her to stop.

"No need." Before she could even blink everything was sitting in the dish rack, perfectly clean! She gaped in surprise, floored. "Kudos to the _chef_," he pointedly looked at her and the meaning was not lost on her - she'd just done it again! She'd given him power without even meaning to!

_Good __gravy__, at the rate __he's__ going he won't ever __need__ to lie - he knows every trick in the __book__!_ Jareth regarded her wearily and gave a theatrically affected sigh before raising his right hand and sitting up straight again. "No! Wait!"

"Are you absolutely sure this is alright?" he asked, looking playfully devious.

"Don't take any more oaths on account of me; that sort of thing's way too serious!"

It was too much fun goading her on. "I swear-"

"STOP IT!" she laughed.

"…very well," he drawled, lowering his hand back to the table and sitting back with a triumphant, seductive little smirk. She just stood there looking at him, shaking her head.

"For someone who's centuries old, you sure don't act like it."

"Itake that as a compliment. And besides, who in their right mind would want to spend all of eternity being dour?"

"You have a point," she conceded, nodding, as she walked away to her room. He got up shortly thereafter and went into the living room, making himself at home on the recliner as if it were his own throne, one leg draped carelessly over the side. Sarah called back from her room. "There's still one thing I don't totally follow, though."

"What's that?"

"If you're immortal, how come you talk about people of your kind dying?"

It was a logical, if somewhat uncouth, question, but he conceded it deserved a decent answer.

"Immortal by your standards, assuredly, but it is only half-truth. We cannot grow ill - at least it's very nearly impossible - and after achieving a sort of personal maturity we don't age at all for about four millennia. It is almost unheard of for us to die of internal natural causes: there simply are none. I continue to be amazed at how much my kind can live through, though - no one said we can't experience pain. There _are_ ways to kill a Sidhe, but the feat is never undertaken lightly - fail and your adversary will almost assuredly make the rest of your life a living hell. It is an extremely serious offense to endanger the person of one of my rank but these things _do_ happen. The ages weigh more heavily on some minds than others. My world has been literally riddled with petty wars over this and that for nearly as long as I can remember since the division of the kingdom in my extreme youth; the land finally proved too hard for the control of one. That's part of why the Labyrinth was built - it doubles as an almost impenetrable fortress when the region is under attack. I fear there is never an _if _about the situation: it is merely a part of existence. Even I utilize armor in my regular wardrobe when I am forced to traverse my domain. That's why I had the Bog installed - streamlines punishment nicely, isn't a bad standing threat to the outside world, either; its presence alone - and the common knowledge of my control over it - has cut down the number of annual minor disturbances impressively. Really, Sarah, I am going to have to educate you in proper topics of conversation, you get me started off on the strangest subject matters," he teased.

"You've been asking a lot of bizarre questions yourself_._"

"Bizarre? Me?"

She was so glad he was in the other room so she could fight back her laughter privately without him knowing. _Well, without as much of a __chance__ of him knowing, really, oh forget it._ "You don't pick up a box of tampons and just ask some clerk what they're _for!_ It looks insane coming from someone your age."

"Well, you can't take for granted that I'm going to automatically know everything there is to know around here. I haven't been coming to this world much recently since calls on me have all but ceased. At any rate, there are distinct physical differences between human and fae women but that's definitely a topic of conversation for a much later date."

Then again there were certain similarities that never failed to take his breath away. A fae woman could always cheat her true appearance, often radically. Using glamour to look more beautiful and enticing was a common-enough trick (he had experimented with it himself in his earlier days when he was the sole cause of his parents' increasing worry; he was never truly pleased with the results, however, and quickly abandoned the practice). A human woman, on the other hand, with a few drastic exceptions, could only slightly alter her appearance with cosmetics and clothing: what she had, she _had_. And Sarah definitely _had it_. She had finally reemerged from her room in a small, lilac dress with a floral print and gauzy sleeves that only tied together in a couple of places, giving it an extremely old-world look, Roman almost. Jareth considered it small because the light fabric only hid one knee in an asymmetrical cut and there was only one layer of it. She wore a small necklace that had as the centerpiece a clear oval of some substance in which was encased real wildflowers, trapped as if in ice or amber. With her long, dark brown hair down and cream-colored long-ribboned sandals racing up her legs, the effect of the cut and color of the dress was nothing short of stunning. Jareth openly appraised her, looking her up and down, and liked what he saw, a small knowing smile growing in one corner of his mouth.

_It's like he's never seen a woman before_, Sarah mentally rolled her eyes. _I hope for __his__ sake he can keep his eyes to __himself__ once we get there_.

He suddenly looked down at his burgundy dress shirt and quickly back up to her, drastic concern overtaking his features.

"We don't match!"

Sarah was caught off guard and doubled over laughing for a moment, suddenly realizing the kind of thing _he_ considered a crisis. Cautious confusion had replaced his concern when she looked at him again.

"Figures you'd worry about that," she said, still giggling a little bit, shaking her head.

"Are the males here really this colorblind?"

"Only the heterosexual ones," she surrendered a sad smile.

Unperturbed, Jareth stood up and spread his arms out a bit, almost as if at the tailor's, eyebrows raised. "Well?"

Sarah thought for a moment with her arms crossed, a smirk left of her smile. "Make it _black_."

He shook his finger at her with a growing, rakish grin. "I like the way you think." He snapped his fingers with his arms down almost straight, head angled away to the side and down, eyes closed in a model's pose. The shirt turned black. And _silk_. The top couple of buttons were undone, showing just a little bit of the chain of his pendant. She had to admit the effect was sexy but he was still showing off.

"It was just killing you being that plain, wasn't it," she teased him.

"I _do_ have a natural flair for this sort of thing." He took an unexpected step forward and caught her right hand, bringing it to his lips. "And especially when my escort insists on being so ravishing." She unceremoniously wriggled her hand free of his grasp, whipping the arm away and almost accidentally whacking him in the nose.

"Escort? Try 'acquaintance,' possibly 'friend' if you can manage to be decent for that long."

He sighed, slightly crest-fallen. "A little chivalry never hurt anyone…" his brow suddenly knit as if he were remembering something, "no wait…I take that back…"

"Mm-_hmm._"

"The hour grows late! Shall we?" He proffered his arm. Sarah gave an exasperated look at his attempts and his patient, teasing smile and finally relented, taking it.

* * *

It seemed to Jareth that realism, with few exceptions, had been scrapped in favor of emotional and psychological expression.

_Or whatever-the-hell one would call __this_, he thought with a mental grimace. The piece he was currently viewing struck him as if the artist had swallowed a considerable amount of paint, put the canvas on the ground, and then proceeded to be ill. All over the canvas. The piece was entitled 'Subway.' He leaned in slightly to quietly talk to Sarah to his right. "Tell me, Sarah, is all modern art like this?"

"If you hate it so much we can just leave."

"Oh no," he protested, shaking his head, "I am going to continue 'broadening my horizons.'" _I may need __this__ to __do__ it, however,_ he thought a bit wryly as he walked past the other patrons to the tray in the far corner of the room for another flute of champagne.

Sarah hadn't been kidding when she said iron was everywhere; it was even in the jewelry and other things such as watches and belt buckles that the public at large wore - even studs of steel in the clothing itself - and he found himself having to be excessively careful about not coming into contact with the crowd, which was far often easier said than done. All the art galleries they had attended that night had been literally packed with people; it was a gorgeous night and the whole city seemed to be out enjoying it.

Denver really wasn't that large of a metropolis relatively speaking, but the downtown proper seemed enormous to Jareth. One imposing castle with a decent expanse of land and surrounding villages was one thing, but row after row after row of steel buildings that seemed to shoot straight out of the ground and topped out anywhere from fifty to a hundred stories high was a staggering sight to behold. Sarah had caught him on more than one occasion staring up at the tops of them with this expression of wonder and astonishment as they walked down the street, making the odd impression of a child seeing the big city for the first time. Sarah had once done exact same thing when she was little, growing up in upstate New York, on the rare occasions when she was allowed to go downtown to watch her mother perform. It was genuinely bizarre how extreme his extremes were; on the one hand he could be as cold and unrelenting as any of the steel buildings he was admiring and on the other he could be playful and silly and strangely gentle.

_It's like living with a __lion__, _she thought, currently watching him walk back with another drink. _He even has the mane…wait, that glass makes __five__. _"I don't want to come off sounding like the party-pooper here but don't you think you ought to be easing off a bit on the alcohol there? Those little glasses are a full serving apiece and you've already had four."

"I'm well-aware of what I'm doing, Sarah. You couldn't get me drunk if you tried." He got close and whispered in her ear so no one else could hear him. "That stopped working three-hundred years ago, love. I can still voluntarily intoxicate myself but it takes a bit more work and a stronger substance. Another time perhaps; this isn't exactly the ideal situation." He came away with a look of taunting hauteur. Sarah wore her surprise openly as she scrutinized his face. With the exception of his enigmatic eyes - they were either ancient or ageless, she could never quite decide - the rest of him appeared as a good, solid 35 years with no premature aging.

_He looks younger than __I__ do, it's __disgusting__! Just how old __is__ he? _

Jareth noted the question flicker behind her eyes, trying to tease out his secrets and unable to do so upon examination. He flashed her a full, peevish smile - rubbing it in - before the mask of aristocratic indifference fell comfortably back into place as he stalked over to the next wall-mounted piece.

"Now, this one isn't too bad," he gestured with his champagne flute. _It actually looks as if conscious effort went into __making it_**. **"It's so intricately rendered - look at the level of detail! What media did he use for this one?" he asked before taking a sip. Sarah looked at the number and checked the pricing pamphlet.

"Color pencil and oil pastel with some airbrush paint."

It was a formless blob but it had an odd amount of continuity and effectively drew the eye around itself. Jareth was studying it, eyebrows furrowed, trying to make sense of it.

"And this one's…a race track."

"It's an amoeba_._"

"I was so close that time!"

At which point Sarah started quietly having a cow - it was just too ridiculous! Jareth watched her as she bit her lip and shook with silent laughter, desperately trying not to do it aloud - the artist was mere yards away, chatting with fellow artists and admirers alike. Jareth had to suppress a small chuckle himself (her laughter was infectious) and placed one hand on her shoulder, trying to make his smile behave, the mirth trickling through his voice anyway. "It is going to be alright, Sarah." She managed to compose herself enough to stand back up straight, forcing herself to take a deep breath as she discreetly dried her eyes with her finger.

"Okay, I think I've had all the fun I can stand _here_. Ready to go to the next one?"

"If you are." He looked at his glass for a moment and put it to his lips as if he were about to toss the whole thing back in one swig. Sarah caught him by the arm.

"If for no other reason than there are other people watching us…"

He side-glanced at her and then put it down on the floor by the wall with a look of quiet resignation.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." _To more than you __realize__, my dear… _

They walked to the door, her following him very closely since there wasn't enough room to walk side-by-side, but when they got there he stepped aside and let her open it for him. It was driving him crazy that she was opening all the doors when grooming and tradition told him they were doing it all backwards, but all the handles had iron, too!

_If she ever comes back to the Underground I'm going to make sure that she never gets to open another door again, not even when she's __alone__! _He accidentally let the grimace surface since he had been thinking of other things than the present moment and Sarah caught it.

"I appreciate that you must be fighting that chivalrous impulse to open all the doors but I assure you it isn't against the rules for a woman to do this here. Besides, who knows what would happen to you if you did."

"I would either get instant third-degree burns or virulent poisoning. Or both."

Sarah swallowed, eyes wide and blinking. "…there you go."

Jareth walked past her with a nod of recognition through the now-open door, careful not to touch the frame, and looked up at the night sky as they walked to the next building. The moon was at about half-full but it looked cold and distant; it was always close and brilliant at home no matter what the phase. But that wasn't what was troubling him.

"Sarah?"

"Yeah?"

He looked right at her, his expression a mixture of dire concern and utter despair.

"Why are there no stars?"

Sarah stopped walking; the question had caught her off-guard. The sadness in his mismatched eyes almost hurt, as if she had been the one guilty of such an unspeakable calamity. She had to fight to compose herself before she could answer him.

"They're still there, I promise, it's just that the city is shining so brightly that it's drowning them out, sort of like the sun does during the day."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah," she sounded matter-of-fact now, "you can actually see our larger cities at night from outer space - we have the pictures to prove it." She smiled at him lightly and started walking again.

_What a bizarre world, where even the __stars__ don't matter anymore_, he reflected, his hands held behind his back as he paced on. _'I'll leave my love between the stars.' 'I move the stars for no one.' No wonder it meant nothing to her. _He almost failed to notice that she was heading toward another building and she had to call after him to break his reverie.

"Jareth?"

He suddenly looked up at her and had to backtrack to the entrance while she waited for him. Sarah was beginning to think that he was having trouble trying to walk slowly to keep pace with her since his legs were so long in comparison to his body - he always picked up speed effortlessly when he wasn't paying attention. The bright, inviting glow before him was, rather, another art gallery. This one had a poster on the door that said there was work by no less than three artists inside.

_Better odds at least_, he thought dryly as he walked through the umpteenth door she'd had to open for him that night. The gallery was split up into a ground level, a loft level, and a small side room with a T.V. The place was totally deserted aside of the help at the merchandise area near the front. To Jareth's surprise and amusement, Sarah gravitated toward that first, eying some pieces of natural-looking jewelry. A necklace with a spiral carved out of bone, amber bead earrings, and 'fairy vials' filled with herbs were among the offerings as well as the regular hand-dyed scarves, glasswork, pottery, and few articles of altered clothing with prints. Suddenly something caught her eye and a wisp of a bittersweet smile crossed her face.

"J.?"

He looked up.

"Something for you." She was holding up yet another formless t-shirt; this one was black and had the phrase "I may be a dreamer, but I'm not the only one" on it in silver.

He quirked a smile. "I think not, but this one would look nice on you," he reached past her and grabbed one hidden deep in the pile. It had the same slogan painted on askew, but this one had once been a tank top and had been converted into a bodice top of sorts, ribbon and bead decorations along the seams, lacing up in the back in such a way that the spine was exposed.

"I couldn't possibly-"

"Nonsense, and it will match nearly everything you own." The sad thing was he was actually right; it looked like the kind of thing that could be dressed up or down as the situation required. She took it from him, checked the price tag and winced. "I'll repay you."

She looked incredulous. "Are you planning on taking a day job?"

"I have my resources," he looked away sideways.

"You'd better not be stealing," she muttered.

He was cheerfully unfazed. "I won't."

Sarah paid with a check so she'd have time to make another deposit to cover it and they went into the movie room. All the lights had been turned off and the credits were rolling. Jareth watched the glowing names scroll up the screen, mesmerized. She lightly tugged his sleeve.

"…what?"

"Did you want to just stand there? Let's go sit down." There were carpeted blocks of wood fashioned into an amphitheater of sorts and he chose to sit in the very middle. Jareth pointed up at the monitor.

"What is that remarkable device? I noticed that you have one also but there was no manual to instruct me how to use it so I left it alone."

Sarah just bowed her head and covered her face with one hand, dragging it down, knowing full well that they were within easy hearing range of the counter. She whispered just loud enough for him to hear, "It's a television set, and would you mind terribly not asking me these things in public?"

"How else am I ever going to learn?"

"I know, I _know_."

He suddenly lip-smiled, turning to look at her, amused. "I embarrass you, don't I?"

Her tone was apologetically cautious. "Well, it isn't exactly you, but people do tend to stare at you like you're from outer space when you say things like that."

"I shall strive to remember my queries and put them to you privately then, but I will expect full explanations for my trouble," he teased, wagging a finger at her.

"Fine, whatever. Shh, it's starting."

They watched the title go by - Aztec Fertility Dance - and for once Jareth actually knew what they were talking about and smirked in anticipation of Sarah's reaction; it would be strong one way or the other… Heavy percussion and tribal singing came from the surround speakers and the documentary-shaky film suddenly started. A dancing man, shown from the chest down only, seemed to have blood and paint smeared down his chest and religious regalia on his wrists and ankles, beads and feathers. But Sarah barely noticed: there was a bright blue feather boa attached to his _groin_, wriggling all around and…_and_…

"Oh my god, that's sick!" Sarah breathed, suddenly crossing her legs as far as they would go.

Jareth burst into laugher at her open disgust and briefly applauded her. "It is refreshing to know that you have grown up, dear, but we are adults here. That's a representation of their feathered-serpent god, Quetzalcoatl."

"I don't care _what_ it's supposed to be, it's ….._oh!_ My mind is officially scarred now; I'll never be able to hear the word 'Aztec' ever again," she said, standing up and making a hasty retreat toward the door to the rest of the gallery with her purchase, still blinking in shock. _Oh my virgin eyes, that was just __wrong__! And he_ _knew__ that was going to __happen__?! Yuck!_

_How the times change,_ Jareth wanly smiled, shaking his head, following her out. They made the mandatory circuit downstairs but Sarah wasn't really paying attention, much to Jareth's amusement. "You obviously have just witnessed something which has deeply disturbed you. Would you care to discuss your feelings?" It was a perfect psychiatric tone.

"Absolutely not."

"You know you're not doing yourself any favors by _repressing_ it, love. It's bound to _pop up_ sooner or later."

"Jareth"

"…very well, I shall be silent."

"Yes, but it never lasts," she finally got a barb in.

"I suppose that's true."

"See?"

His gaze was one of wearing patience; the game was getting old in a hurry and she wisely dropped the conversation much to his surprise.

_She's voluntarily __backing down__?! Perhaps I'm gaining ground with her after all._

Sarah finally ascended the spiral staircase in the back of the gallery to access the landing and he followed, careful not to touch the steel railing. "Ah, now this is more like it," he said, his interest suddenly refreshed: it was a set of computer-graphic augmented 'faery portraits.' "Although they could've utilized a more glamorous species than those little ankle-biters."

"Oh, like you?"

"Well…yes, I have had my portrait commissioned; it's a life-size. Used to hang in the front hall but it kept getting vandalized. I had to resort to locking it away in my study."

"Only the best."

The sarcasm wasn't lost on him and he reflected that such a process must be a rarity in her world where so much technology was at everyone's disposal. He had barely been there a couple of days and he already could not imagine human existence without the internet.

"They aren't real, you know," Sarah added, just to make sure.

"I guessed as much. I doubt they'd stand still long enough."

Sarah sighed. Sure, he was stuck up, but did photography even _exist_ in his world? Portraiture was, in all probability, still the only way of saving a likeness. She smirked. _At least it isn't a __statue__, I'll bet that's __next__…_ "I can't believe I'm saying this but have you ever considered putting some kind of repellent spell on it?"

He turned to meet her eyes, genuinely intrigued. "Not enough to hurt them but just something to throw whatever vile substance it is this time-"

They ended together -

" back in their face!"

Sarah closed her mouth in surprise and looked away, a bit embarrassed.

Jareth surrendered a smile. "No I hadn't. It's a good idea, actually."

She blinked and made her way to the wall, slightly shaking her head. "Alright, I've been spending _way_ too much time with you - I'm even starting to think like you!"

He laughed. "You've barely spent any time at all, dear. And when you have, believe me, you'll know."

She didn't answer. Instead she was finally admiring a work of art for the first time all evening: it was a crouching fairy woman with monarch butterfly wings, a leaf dress, and a mask of mist that trailed far back through a verdant maze of circular tree branches, forming a tunnel of sorts. Sarah glanced at the title and smiled, nodding: Labyrinth.

_Of __course__ it is! Why would it be anything __else__?_ she thought sarcastically. There were a myriad of faces in the smoke; the curling roots looked like arms. In spite of how close to the viewer the front figure was the gaze was immediately drawn back in farther.

Sarah didn't even notice that Jareth had walked away until she went to look at the next piece. He was already several down the line, not content to wait for her for once. He was currently drinking in the sight of the back view of a mature female nude with small feathered wings. She had just hatched from an egg and was still dripping in amniotic fluid, gluing her thick, long, blonde hair to one wing, draped over. The small of her back was temptingly exposed with golden sunlight shining through the rest of the egg, hinting powerfully at what was left hidden, highlighting her supermodel face, her shoulders, her sumptuous curves perfectly against the green grass backdrop. Lush was an inadequate description, the attention to detail was mind-boggling for an oil paining. Sarah rolled her eyes and shook her head with a slightly disgusted little smirk. _Figures_. She walked past him to the edited photo right after - a small glowing, androgynous fairy on a mushroom, covered in tattoos from head to foot was about to be surprised by an equally golden tabby cat sneaking up on it from behind in the tall grass.

"Beauty is beauty and should be appreciated as such…especially when it is on display." He turned to see her slightly surprised expression and smiled a secretive little smile.

_I don't care what he __says__ he is, he's a __man__. _That was when the next painting took Sarah's breath away. The subject matter was an old theme - a faun playing a double-flute - but it was the way it was portrayed. Most of the picture was in muted, earthy tones since it was autumn and most of the leaves were off the trees of the forest and carpeting the ground, but it only made the faun's startling green gaze only pop all the more at the viewer. He was seated beneath a large oak tree in an easy, open-legged crouch. In spite of the fact that he was covered in ruddy fur from the waist down, it left nothing to the imagination. It was obvious that the painting was one of shamelessly casual seduction. His long, frizzy red hair cascaded behind his perfectly sculpted and tanned nude torso. There was undeniable heat in his eyes as he drank in the viewer as if she were every bit as naked as he was. Sarah could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks but she couldn't look away. She didn't even notice Jareth sneak up behind her until he whispered in her ear, making her jump.

"I believe _you_ just accused _me_ of voyeurism moments ago, and _yet_…"

"Jareth!"

"I'll leave you two in peace," he smiled teasingly at her shocked expression as he walked away to the far wall. The man was infuriating! …but what was even more infuriating was that he had been right yet again and she hated herself for it. How did he always manage to see through her so easily? But he was never judgmental, just a casual observer who wasn't afraid to face her with the fact that she was human - and he was okay with it. All of it. It almost made her feel guilty at times and yet…strangely at ease around him; it was so odd. She turned to see who he was admiring this time, perhaps a bit more daring and uninhibited than she had been before since he had given her the okay to do likewise. She was openly appreciating the 'beauty on display.'

_God, he's __gorgeous__, even from behind! _Broad-shouldered yet wasp-waisted, Jareth cut a pleasingly striking figure, even in his more modest 'earth clothing.' He didn't seem to notice her attention as he usually did - he was too wrapped up in what he was seeing. Sarah carefully walked up behind him and quickly realized why: the picture was of a female angel, her huge wings spread behind thick rusted iron prison bars against a gray stone background as if it were a dungeon. She sat at the opening of the cage - deliberately made too small so she couldn't get her wings out and escape - hugging her knees to her, head bowed. She was nude but not exposed because of her pose, bespeaking less sensuality and more frailty. Her blonde hair fell forward, concealing her face.

Sarah was amazed at Jareth's uncharacteristically open reaction. There wan an intense empathy and sorrow in his usually bright, haughty eyes, eyebrows knit, mouth slightly parted, as if he were feeling her pain himself. He reached out and gently stroked the crying figure, almost as if he forgot for a moment that it wasn't real. The tenderness took Sarah's breath away; she could've cried herself seeing him so deeply moved. Almost without her own volition she put her right hand on his left shoulder. He started and turned to look at her, the emotion still clouding his mismatched eyes. He was amazed to see the sympathy and understanding in her own eyes. She nodded her head without saying a word and he placed his own right hand over hers with a sad little smile, stealing one last look at the caged angel before taking the hand that had been on his shoulder warmly in both of his hands, silently leading her to the edge of the landing.

The rest of the crowd had caught up with them; the floor was packed but no one had yet ventured upstairs. Sarah leaned against the railing, gripping it, looking down and out and Jareth had to fight the urge to do the same - the railing was steel, too. The Burning Man bus had just pulled up to the curb and its eccentrically costumed occupants were taking the gallery by storm. Sarah watched them mingle freely with the crowd, baffled.

"What in the world…"

"Living art, Sarah."

"I thought you hated this kind of thing!"

He stood behind her to the left with his hands clasped behind his back, speaking conspiratorially into her closest ear. "There is a difference between random bizarrity for its own sake and mythic figures. Now I will admit that I don't know the cultural contexts for many of these but I recognize a few of them." He scanned the floor. "Take that gentleman over there," he pointed discreetly, "what do you make of him?"

Jareth had gestured toward a young shirtless man in cargo shorts. He wore a wreath of fake grapevines on his head with the clusters of grapes still attached but his hands were manacled in front of him and there was a strip of duct tape over his mouth.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Come, come, Sarah, it's not that hard," he lightly reprimanded her, "let us take this apart logically. What do you recognize?"

"…well, grapes were originally worn by the Greek god Dionysus, god of wine and revelry."

"Don't forget theatre," he added pointedly, "very good, though. Now, what's amiss with this fine character, hm? Just think about it logically, Sarah."

"He has a bondage fetish."

Jareth laughed. "I think you can do better than that, dear, although you may have a point; it wouldn't be out of character. It's something more obvious."

"He's restrained and he can't talk."

"You're right on the cusp…"

"…it's about repression! He's creative and loves to have a good time but he's not allowed to speak or act freely - society has bound him!"

"Bravo, Sarah! See, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" But someone had just caught his eye because she was staring right at them and…_no… __yes__, damn!_ He forced himself to smile at the stranger and gently took Sarah by the wrists, pulling her away from the edge of the landing, still wearing the fake expression.

"What's going on?" Sarah asked playfully. "Do you want to leave that badly? Jareth?"

He didn't speak until they were in the corner of the room. He suddenly stopped smiling.

"Now, I don't want you to be frightened or even to look it; I need you to be the brave little actress that I know is still in there."

Concern flooded her features in spite of herself. "Why? What's going on?"

Jareth brought his tone of voice down to a barely audible whisper - they were no longer alone on the landing.

"I've just been spotted. Clean through the glamour," he gritted his teeth. Sarah gasped, eyes wide. She quickly forced herself to conceal the reaction. "I thought all the witches in this country had been killed and the practice outlawed over a century ago! Now - your job is going to be to follow my lead and not to let on that anything is wrong: we have to get out of here before she makes it to the stairwell or we'll be trapped! I know she means to wait for me down there if she can get through the crowd. Give us your left hand. Come on, there isn't much time!"

Sarah cautiously did so and he squeezed it - **hard** - unceremoniously yanking a bit of energy from her.

"My apologies, Sarah, but this is extremely serious business. Are you alright?"

She felt as if she had just run for half a city block and was lightly panting. "What the _hell_ did you just _do_?!"

He discreetly formed a small, light green crystal in his right hand. "I didn't have enough power for the spell. _This_ should distract her long enough for us to escape as well as acting to confuse her memory of us. Are you ready?"

Sarah pulled her hand free of his grasp, slightly disgusted with him, and caught her breath.

"Ready."

* * *

Chelsea could scarcely believe her eyes - or her luck - but there he was, plain as day: a full-blooded Sidhe on the second floor! His smile, while obviously forced, was dazzling_. _He was using a light glamour but it wasn't enough to conceal his true identity if one knew how to look. The truly strange thing was that he was in the company of a human woman, one without the 'sight' to boot.

_She might not even know!_ she thought as she began to try to work her way through the thick crowd to the small stairwell at the back of the room. Perhaps she could talk to him - it was a chance not to be missed! What happened next happened so quickly that she didn't even have time to react: instead of throwing the crystal or floating it down somehow (far too conspicuous), Jareth simply willed it to her. She was suddenly dazzled and lightheaded, the lights were too bright, the room too hot. Or was it? She had come this far into the crowd for a reason but for the life of her she couldn't remember what it was! Perhaps she was dehydrated, everyone was shimmering. No, she was looking for someone, but who? Her friends wouldn't be there for another hour. People were beginning to descend the spiral staircase but she could scarcely make out their faces. Had someone slipped her a drug? She wouldn't drink any more from her glass. Finally some recess in the back of her mind managed to register that it felt like a spell. A spell! But who had cast it? If only she could remember! She tried to consciously fight it but it was no use; the magic was far too strong. A couple was coming down the thin stairwell but the man wasn't even touching the railing in spite of how tight the angle of the screw was, how odd.

_And he just smiled at me walking by! Should I know him? Oh well, they're on their way out, I couldn't reach them anyway. I'll probably remember who he is once I'm feeling better and kick myself for not recognizing him. _Chelsea was beginning to feel a little bit better as she forced herself to walk to the refreshment stand and asked for a bottled water, discarding the drink in her hand. Sarah almost felt sorry for the hopelessly confused woman as they headed out the door - she remembered that feeling. She turned to Jareth, distaste and questioning in her eyes as they briskly hiked back to her car - the nearest paid parking lot had been a few blocks away. He turned and read her expression.

"Don't worry, Sarah, it's already wearing off. She'll eventually remember what happened and piece it together but both of us should remain a blank - she won't be able to recall clearly what either of us looked like."

The rest of the walk was as swift as it was silent, as was the drive back to her apartment, the evening thoroughly ruined for both of them. When they got into her apartment, Jareth immediately walked over to the recliner and collapsed into it, eyes closed, panting in relief that they had made a clean getaway. Sarah just stood there glaring at him, not sure whether to be more relieved that they had made it unscathed or irritated with him for casually toying with that poor woman just now, even if she _had _been some kind of a threat to his safety. He shook his head and eyed her wearily.

"That was far too close for comfort. I'll have to create better shields in my glamour, ones that can withstand prying eyes."

"Yes, you do that, because I don't want you bespelling every hundredth person we meet!"

He looked suddenly worried. "Are there really that many of them?"

"…I don't know," she answered honestly, "but this isn't your world and I don't like you screwing with the people in it!"

He regarded her for a moment before closing his eyes again and slightly nodding his head, conceding. On impulse Sarah grabbed a thick art book off the shelf behind her and tossed it at him.

"Catch!"

He _did_ catch it - with one hand, the spine mere inches from making contact with his groin. He looked up at her smug smirk with just a hint of danger.

"You enjoy baiting me, girl."

"Just returning the favor," she teased. "Goodnight." She turned and walked down the hall to her room.

"…_good__night_, Sarah." Sighing, he turned his attentions to the tome that she'd deliberately hurled at him and smiled appreciatively: it was a collection of Waterhouse paintings.


	6. Wise Owl

(_author's note: In response to some voiced concern, I only meant that buffaloing the populace is a trickier prospect when not everyone is as easily buffaloed ;) I didn't mean to insult anyone. Y__ou'll also note in the coming chapters that Jareth is sort of a cultural pagan himself. _Please read on. - T.)

Chapt. 6 - Wise Owl

And so things went for the next week. Sarah was slowly getting used to the idea of coming home to somebody, but what a houseguest! It was hard to keep track of his likes from day to day. He would be completely enthralled with one diversion or field of study, only to toss it away abruptly for something completely different the next day and so on. She knew he was growing restless being cooped up in her apartment all day but he was deliberately limiting his outside contact on purpose; the less people who knew he was even there, the better. Especially after that close call in that gallery - it was too close for comfort that there were people walking freely in Sarah's world who still held the power to see who he really was past his disguises. Natural psychic phenomena was one thing but he had incorrectly presumed that trained spiritualism would've been crushed underfoot by the march of man's technology. It was simply not worth the risk.

_The caged angel __indeed_, she thought a bit sadly as she stepped out of her car and closed the door. _Wonder what he's been up to today_. As she entered the main hall of her apartment building and climbed the two huge flights of stairs that led to hers, Sarah noticed that somebody was cranking Latin dance music - and it was emanating from behind her door. The moment she reached the landing it suddenly stopped and a breath later Jareth was at the door - he'd duct taped the daylights out of the inside knob just so he could let her in himself. He was greeted with an expression of regretful inquiry. "Do I even want to know what's going on in there?"

"I'm exploring different kinds of music." His fingers were crossed behind his back; it wasn't the whole truth. He had been practicing Latin ballroom dancing in secret for almost a week now - he'd first seen it on a T.V. show and had done thorough internet research to start learning the moves. He wanted to surprise her and take her out sometime. In the meantime she'd come home early today - he hadn't been expecting her for at least another hour. _She'll get the full truth soon, I promise! _he mentally screamed as the wrath of the High Court dangled precariously over his head for a moment before withdrawing.

"Whatever, it doesn't really matter; just try not to blast out the blocknext time, okay?" she laughed. "I _do_ have neighbors right on the other side of these walls, floor and ceiling."

"Of course," he said promptly with a slight incline of the head, closing and locking the door behind her. "I shall strive to be more considerate in the future. How was your day, love?" It was a trite question by now and she rarely paid attention to it anymore, but he never tired of the novelty; _her_ coming home to _him_ every night.

"Crazy busy and it isn't even over yet. I have to finish compiling data for the report I'm scheduled to give to the car company tomorrow." Jareth casually watched her put her stuff down on the dining room table and get a spritzer out of the fridge before opening her briefcase up onto the table, picking out bits of this file and that.

"For the solar energy panels you speak of that you have been tirelessly testing day and night, correct?"

"…yeah," she smiled. It was refreshing that someone actually cared about what she was doing outside of the few friends she had at work. "If we can pump enough reserve into the back batteries _while_ the front ones are charging from the panels on the hood, there's a chance that this'll actually work!"

"Glad to hear it!"

"…so actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to stay in tonight and try to finish this."

"By all means, Sarah, slave away! I shall simply have to find other ways to amuse myself this evening."

Sarah turned and looked at him with incredulous hauteur. "I amuse you?"

_Danger! __**Danger! **_"You make a charming conversational companion; I have grown accustomed to none. I mean you no insult. If you have something better to do than baby-sit me, go right ahead."

She warily backed down. And suddenly got a mischievous smile.

"And don't even _think _that!"

"I mean, that would be the most humiliating thing of all time, now wouldn't it?" she mused at the ceiling with a large smile, "Getting wished away to your own subjects?" she glanced at him on the last word.

"Didn't you say you had something to do?" he replied with level sarcasm.

"You just can't take a joke to save your life, you know that?"

"I suppose there's something to that observation."

"Anyways, what sayest thou I order a pizza for dinner and you can watch movies while I work on the computer?"

"I haven't the vaguest idea what this 'pizza' is, but it sounds like a definite plan of action," he quirked a smile.

* * *

No matter how careful you are, it happens anyway. Just when you least expect it, when it's most inconvenient…

Jareth vaguely woke up the next morning at precisely 2:41 a.m. to the sound of _retching_.

_That's __does it__, _he thought, still half-asleep, _no more keggers allowed in the castle proper_. He rolled over - straight onto the hard, wood floor. _Bed on the floor… SARAH!_ If it was the backlash of siphoning off her power too fast he would never forgive himself. Quick as thought he was presentable and at the bathroom door; there was light streaming out from beneath it, she _must_ be in there. He knocked tentatively. "Sarah?" There was just a sigh for a response. _I mustn't break down the door, I mustn't break down the door…_ "Sarah, are you all right in there? Is it all right if I open the door?"

"I don't want you to see me like this." Her voice sounded like she'd been crying. It was supreme torture, being shut out, having absolutely no bloody clue as to what was wrong other than something not being right. She didn't _feel_ right; that much he could tell, he was close enough to do a basic read of her energy. Moments of tense silence passed before he heard her retch again. He closed his eyes and leaned on the closed door, waiting for her to respond. He heard her catching her breath as the toilet flushed. Finally… "Jareth?…are you still there?" She sounded unsure and spent.

"Yes."

"Could you get me a glass of water?" He didn't even bother to argue over the unsaid 'please'; he raced to the kitchen and got her some tap. Cold water would be the last thing she'd want if she'd just been ill. He knocked on the door primly this time.

"Room service for Miss Williams." The half-joke had been more for his benefit than hers. She opened the door just enough to get her hand through and grab the glass before quickly closing it again. There were sounds of washing up for a while and finally she spoke again.

"Well I guess you can come on in now but there isn't much worth seeing."

He cautiously opened the door - she was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall by the bathtub across from the toilet, legs bent up so she fit. Her hair was hastily tied back with a rubber band and there were signs that she'd been sweating as well as crying. She looked up at him, tired. Jareth let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he slid down the wall to sit alongside her.

Sarah wanely smiled at him. "You're _so_ lucky you can't get sick, you know that? It's disgusting."

"I'm sorry if-"

"Nah," she shook her head and waved off the apology. Brief silence.

"What is it that ails you, do you know?"

"Everybody at work's been coming down with the same bug - stomach virus. This kind only lasts 24 hours but it's real fun living through."

Sudden concern flooded his eyes.

"Oh, I'll be fine; I'm just bitching to bitch," she said lazily.

He read her mental context; she was obviously in no condition for civil conversation. _Getting something off one's chest only __rougher__, I __get__ it, _he thought with a quiet smirk. _So this is the grown-up version of the steely maiden_. They simply sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally he spoke again. "Are you feeling any better now?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "I think that was the worst of it. But _still_…" She rubbed one of her eyes with the palm of her hand and yawned. "And of all days!"

"Do you feel up to sitting somewhere else?"

"What, the bathroom floor's not good enough for you?" At his confused expression she laughed. "It was a joke, oh I give up."

"I'm sorry, I just don't seem to be wired like you are."

"Clearly_._"

_Oh she'll be __fine__ - the old fire's still intact there, _he thought with a smirk. _Actually…_ He turned to face her, playfully devious intent brimming in his eyes, his growing smile.

"Oh what?"

Without another word he simply scooped her up in his arms - one beneath her knees, the other supporting her back - and proceeded to turn and walk out of the bathroom with her, magically extinguishing the light as he left.

"Hey!"

His voice was casually innocent. "What?"

"Put me down!" she laughed.

"I _will_," he stated matter-of-factly. "On the _couch_."

She rolled her eyes. There was just no trusting this one. _You and your 'save the damsel in distress' routine, __sheesh__. _

It did not escape Sarah's notice that he was wearing yet another of his scandalously open underground shirts: her left hand had accidentally made contact with his bare, smooth chest for a moment in the dark, his taloned pendant cold against his warm skin, and she was suddenly thankful that it was pitch black because she knew she was blushing like mad. She quickly re-maneuvered her arms so they lightly hung about his neck; that was a little bit safer.

Jareth, of course, hadn't missed a beat of what had just occurred but wasn't about to let on, either; she deserved at least the illusion of privacy at times, he was beginning to realize that it was a basic human psychological need. He managed to get around the coffee table with her and carefully set her down, sitting to her right in turn.

She just shook her head with half a smile. "I never really know what to make of you."

"There is, by your standards, an old human phrase: the best time to make up your mind about someone… is _never_." That last word sounded like a flirt, just thrown out there to see what would happen. Nothing.

"Why did you turn off the light?"

"I didn't need it," he said simply. "My totem form lends me near-perfect night vision. Unless you're afraid of the dark…"

"No," she shot back. "It just struck me as a little bit weird."

"It is easier to relax in the dark," he stretched his arms. "It also seems easier for you to relax when you don't have to see me." That last one almost hurt, it undermined her growing tolerance of him, but she grudgingly had to admit that he was right. "So…now what happens? I must confess sickness in general is a bit foreign to me…"

"Hopefully I can get back to sleep without having to throw up again. But just in case…" She felt beneath the coffee table and dragged a lined waste basket over to the couch.

"Ah."

Silence. And it wasn't golden. Part of Sarah's brain had been playing devil's advocate lately when it came to Jareth. I mean, sure he was dangerous as hell when he put his mind to it, but she could just feel that there was so much more hiding behind that tough, cold mask he tended to show the world; he couldn't stay in character around her, it kept slipping, even taking her by surprise at times. And she was trying to write it off as the fever she no doubt had, but the urge to hear him sing again…to request it was to officially seal her doom. But what if it wasn't? Perhaps the same rules didn't apply in extenuating circumstances - this certainly was one. It had haunted her, that impossible siren voice she had been forced to ignore when she ran her course; if she had ever really stopped to listen, all would've been lost. It nearly worked in the ballroom. But now there was no wager, no one's life at stake…alright, that was a lie, but it would just amount to being her own stupid fault and nothing beyond that. It was still risky though; it might give him the wrong impression. She'd better not.

Jareth couldn't take much more of her inner turmoil and broke the ice. "Most of the tunes I know are not safe for mortal ears, dear Sarah."

"You were listening in?! Oh, who am I kidding, you _always_ listen in! Haven't you ever heard of personal privacy?"

He was simply silent but she could feel him watching her with reserved interest. It was at times like this that it was most noticeable that he wasn't human and it felt very strange.

She forced herself to go on in spite of it. "Not safe. How?"

"Oh, yes, I could sing you asleep in a hurry. The problem is, of course, that you would never awake again."

Sarah's eyes went wide as she gulped hard. "Oh_._" _So much for __that__._

"It just means that I will have to compose some new ones." His tone was friendly and warm again and she was suddenly acutely embarrassed.

"You really don't have to, it's okay, I didn't know-"

He simply pressed one finger to her lips to silence her awkward apology. "Shh, I want to."

She didn't have to see him to hear his feral smile as he took his slender hand away. It was strangely flattering that someone like that wanted to go through the trouble of writing music for her, making her forget her momentary fear.

"In the meantime, if you would be willing to settle for a compromise… do you still like stories?" He knew he had her.

She laughed a little, feeling like a little kid. "Sure, go for it. What did you have in mind?"

He moved in close beside her. He liked being physically close to her, sometimes seemingly for no reason at all, and it was still weird when he got close but at least he had a record of not doing anything beyond it so far and he was really casual about it. Maybe it was just a Sidhe thing; she wasn't entirely sure. It almost of reminded her of how birds cluster on an electrical wire. To her surprise, he began softly speaking in her ear in a language that sounded like Gaelic. She interrupted his cadence.

"What is that, Irish? Welsh?"

He smiled. "Older, dear. My native tongue. Technically speaking, it's a dialectal bastardization of a few ancient languages; sounds nice now doesn't it?"

Sarah laughed at his deliberate self-deprecation, loosening up a bit at his sudden, casual frankness. He continued.

"I believe it once had a name but it has been lost to the sands of time; very few of us speak it fluently now. Mastering it was part of the royal education and this was one of the pieces we all had to memorize. It is an old tone poem, comparable to your Virgil I suppose. It is an epic story full of gods and devils, wars and miracles, love and betrayal and maidens who don't want to be rescued," he lightly jabbed. "The point being, Sarah, if you cannot understand one word of what I am saying, your ear will simply catch the tone qualities and inflections of my voice. Music evolved from speech so it naturally follows that speech with its meaning completely stripped away will be perceived by the brain as a kind of music. Make sense?"

Sarah nodded affirmatively and Jareth took up the verse again. For all she knew he could've been talking about someone getting hacked to pieces but for the life of her she couldn't have torn herself away from that beautiful, lyrical voice if her life had depended on it. He was making it past her usually high defenses with unspeakable ease. And he wasn't boasting all that much, either; his voice really was musical in its own right, - a rich, heady baritone, mellow and crisp in turns. Jareth was deliberately keeping his tone low and gentle but it was far from monotonous. Every word seemed to charm her ears, stroking her senses, begging her to come nearer the speaker. The strange, delicious syllables ran down her spine in warm chills and other sensations from his silver tongue like a heavy drug, weakening her resistance to him. Tentatively, afraid to break the precious spell of sound he was weaving about her, _through_ her to her core, Jareth reached across himself with his right hand and gently stroked her hair, still speaking of the fall of some distant empire and fires that ravaged an ancient countryside as if he were making love. To his surprise and relief, she didn't freeze or recoil from his touch - she leaned into it, in fact, audibly inhaling at the contact, eyes rolling back as they closed in pleasure. Emboldened, he continued the slow, gentle strokes as his dulcet voice continued to exercise its own insistent power until she gave into the temptation to lean on him. He lulled her into feeling perfectly safe and deliriously happy to the point that she didn't even think to care by the time he drew his other arm around her and she found herself nestled close. She could hear his deep voice resonating from within his body now, adding weight to the already hypnotic sound.

It would've been so easy for Jareth to take those last few steps: to add magical meaning between and behind the words uttered, melting away any resistance; to delicately trace her face until she involuntarily followed his every touch; to will her lips to come to his at long last, drowning her in mindless pleasure. But no. Such a thing, while immediately gratifying, would be a bold-faced betrayal of any shred of confidence she had put in him thus far. He knew that somewhere his little sister was losing quite a bit of money on an old bet - that he would never place another's will and well-being above his own. Sarah was turning his world on end and he knew this was only the beginning. And so he continued on as best he could, suppressing his own desires, trying to think only of offering her what solace he could under the circumstances. It was, relatively-speaking, a paltry attempt but what else could he do for her? He didn't even have enough power to heal himself of an injury at present. Even a sleep spell had to be ruled out in case she had to wake up again to further purge her body of the disease. He noted that her breathing and heartbeat had slowed and become very methodical - she was asleep. _At __last_, he stopped. _ Now what to do with __you__… _

He debated simply laying her down on the couch for fear of waking her again but in the end he decided to try to carry her back to her room. Slowly, carefully, he caught her back up into his arms, cradling her like an overgrown child, and quietly crossed the hallway to her bedroom at the far end on the right - thankfully, the door was standing wide open. The covers and sheets were all a mess, shoved down and back as if she had violently kicked them off in her sleep. He noticed that she was shivering in spite of the fact that her skin was hot to the touch and the room was adequately warm as well.

_She must have a slight fever_, he thought as he lay her down and carefully pulled the blankets up to her shoulders. _At least that's __one__ thing I can help._ He bent over, one hand on either side of her pillow, and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead; immediately she stopped shaking as her temperature returned to normal. He stood back up and watched her sleep for a few moments, reassuring himself that everything was all right before turning to go. _Wait…_She had an infernal clock on the headboard of her bed that buzzed an alarm at 5:00 A.M. on the dot every morning that she had to go to work; it had awoken him on several occasions. He wasn't sure of how to shut if off properly - she had never shown him - so he reached down to the outlet and unplugged it from the wall, content to see the face go dark as it lost power. He knew he would hear about that plenty later on but she needed her rest. One day's absence wouldn't kill her. He walked to the door and turned to look at her one last time before heading back to bed himself. Perhaps this day would hold new possibilities. He would just have to wait and see.

* * *

10:27 a.m.

Sarah groggily turned over and suddenly squinted from the light prying through the blinds. _LIGHT!_ The thought startled her awake and she turned in confusion and panic to her alarm clock - the face was dead. _Shit!_ she thought as she raced to the bathroom, still feeling like she'd just been run over by a train. The events of the morning came back crystal clear but she found that she couldn't remember anything past the couch…_he must've carried me back to my room …and __turned off my alarm the only way he knew how, __Jareth! _She still felt awful but she knew she was in serious trouble for not calling in earlier, especially with her presentation and all scheduled this morning. She _had_ to get her notes to Irina. _At least __she__ should be able to make sense of this mess, I'd better call her._ When Sarah emerged from the bathroom, Jareth was lounging in the hall, arms crossed with a look of light concern.

"Did you sleep all right?"

"Once I got to sleep, yes, thank you, but did you _have _to turn off my alarm? Do you have any inkling of how much hot water I'm in right now for not being there?! We were scheduled to meet with Nikola Motors this morning to talk about the progression of experiments that I've been doing with a coworker!"

"I don't care if there is an invading army knocking at your door, you are staying here today, you are still ill. Contact your superior; I am certain he will understand."

"How dare you order me around in my own house! You have no right…to…" Her rant stopped short. He was simply taking her fury, standing his ground, but there was something in his eyes, a self-assured hauteur in his tone of voice on that last comment that made her pause. She squinted her eyes, scrutinizing him for a moment before walking right past him to the phone on the end table in the living room: she was starting to get the feel for when he was up to something. She dialed the main number to the complex and got the secretary's usual, generic cheery greeting.

"Hello, you have reached the Green Energy Laboratories of America. Do you know the extension number that you need?"

"15."

"One moment please."

A part of Vivaldi's 'The Four Seasons' played in the background for a few moments before she was picked back up again.

"Hello, this is Jason Anderson in the main suite, what can I do for you?"

"Hi, this is Sarah Williams from the research department and I know I'm really late but I have to call in sick today. I'm sorry I wasn't there for the meeting-"

"Look, Williams, you didn't miss a thing. These bastards must think they have enough money to do whatever they damn well please_. _Can you believe we've been waiting for them for three hours now and they just called right before you did to say they'd be here at eleven?! …you know what, never mind them, stay home, take care of yourself, I don't think you're even scheduled to present today."

"I'm not?"

Jareth smiled.

"Let me double-check my planner here…nope, I've got Irina down for your team. Come back when you're feeling better, okay?"

"…absolutely. Thank you, sir. …Goodbye."

Sarah slowly put down the receiver, floored, and turned around uneasily to face Jareth who was still standing behind her: He'd switched into his preferred 'earth attire' - a hunter green cotton dress shirt tucked into tight blue jeans sans the metal grommets today, his distinctive marks already gone, hair back. The suspicious, amused smile that was starting to grow on her face said it all.

"You're welcome," was his playfully sarcastic reply, an arch smile playing on his lips. "Now, to locate your coworker-"

"Irina."

"Yes, her…I don't even know what she looks like so we're going to have to do this together_ - _your power, my knowledge of how to use it. It will require us forming a temporary link-"

"You're awfully sure of yourself there, that I'll just go along with whatever you want."

"I _am_ doing this for you."

"You're doing it for us," she stated flatly.

He quirked a lip smile and shrugged, slightly nodding in defeat.. "True enough, but still…"

"…oh fine, what do we have to do for this little escapade of yours?"

"You are right-hand dominant, correct?"

"mm-hm," she nodded.

"Then your left hand - your strength one - goes here," he said as he took it gently in both of his hands and pressed it fervently to his heart, his eyes never leaving her. She had never deliberately touched him before - he always managed to act upon her - and while she felt awkward, it was admittedly not unpleasant; she could tell that the torso hidden beneath the soft, cotton shirt was perfectly sculpted in spite of his slender figure. She lightly blushed and he pretended not to notice, secretly pleased that she found him physically attractive. "I am right-hand dominant also, so my right hand - the magic sensitive one - goes here," he said a bit deeper, letting his fingertips come to rest on her temple, stroking away the hair in the process.

At once Sarah felt a distinct tingling sensation at both points and assumed, correctly, that it was the connection. She noted that at the same moment Jareth had sharply inhaled, his eyes closed and his head tilted slightly back, the smallest of smiles forming at the corner of his lightly opened mouth: a look of quiet ecstasy. It was barely perceptible to her but he seemed to just be drowning in it, soaking it in as if he had been dying of thirst from its absence. He lowered his head straight again and opened his eyes - their expression at once sated and knowing, the effect strangely intoxicating. She swallowed, trying to mentally shake the feeling.

"Notice anything different?"

"I can sort of feel it where we're touching - is that right?"

"Yes, very good_,_" he purred, "that is precisely what was supposed to happen. Now, you're going to have to keep your arm right where it is so tell me immediately if you start feeling fatigued from holding it up - I'll figure out a way to re-maneuver us. With your right hand, do as I do," and with that he brought up his free hand in the gesture he used to conjure his crystals. Sarah mimicked him, incredulous of what it looked like she was about to do. "Comfortable?"

"Enough."

"All right. I'm going to support this arm so you can better concentrate. I will talk you through this but _you_ will be making your first scrying crystal. Considering that you currently have the bulk of my old reserve at your disposal, this should be considerably easy." He held her right arm so it wasn't just stuck in midair. Her left one was already beginning to tire a bit but she did her best to ignore it, shifting slightly. "Ready?"

"Yes."

"It is often easiest for a beginner if you close your eyes."

She did as she was bade. His voice went soft and deep.

"Envision your friend, Sarah…..remember her face…leave out no detail…she is perfectly held in your memory…now will her to come to you…"

"How?"

Jareth quickly wracked his brain for an apt metaphor. "It's just like fishing - you _have_ her, now bring her in. She cannot resist you…..she has no power….."

"I can't!"

"You _must_. Just let it happen, Sarah…..you are unable to stop it, love…."

That last little suggestion was all it took: Sarah's eyes shot open with shock and surprise as the remote contact was made. To her amazement there was a crystal perched perfectly on her fingertips and inside was Irina's face! Her short, bright auburn hair practically glowed.

"Very good," Jareth crooned, "I am not lying when I say you are still in control here. Push away a bit so I can see what she's wearing."

It took a bit of effort to stay focused but she just managed to do it. Any more though…

"Fine, I have all the information I need. And now for the coup-de-gras. I'm going to stop supporting this arm, Sarah; be prepared to hold it up on your own, dear."

Jareth let go of her and made a pass of his hand over the still-glowing crystal. Sarah watched as Irina suddenly got an expression of 'oops!' and started quickly walking down the corridor.

"Alright, Mr. Magic, just what did you do right there?"

"First we must break the contacts. On the count of three, then, and be prepared to quickly drop that crystal as well. Ready?"

She nodded.

"One….two…._three!_"

They pulled away from each other simultaneously and Sarah dropped the crystal like a hot potato - it shattered in midair like a glass bomb before turning to glitter and disintegrating into the floor. She gave a small cry of surprise - it was a miracle that neither of them were hit.

"That would've happened in your hand if you had kept hanging onto it without me to guide you. You have the power, but not the training and practice to safely wield it on your own. Yet," he ended with a smile and a touch of pride.

"I'm going to repeat my question; just what did you do to her?!"

"I made it so she thinks she forgot something in her car; I intend to intercept her outside with your notes."

"Wait, _wait_ a minute," Sarah put up her hands, "you can't just go popping in over there - the entire complex is rigged with security cameras; somebody would see you! If anyone stops you and asks how you got there, you took the bus. Just get in and get out-"

"Yes, Mother," he teased her, "I'll be fine, but I have to get going_._ What shall I give her?"

Sarah walked over to the coffee table and opened her briefcase. She dug out a stuffed manila envelope and handed it to him. "Now that's just loose, make sure you don't lose any of it." He gave it a cursory flip-through and nodded. "Be careful." Before she could move he dove in and pecked her on the cheek.

"Be right back, love." And stepping back, he vanished, almost so fast he didn't see her blush.

…_oh he __didn't__ just __do__ that…oh god, he __did__; I am in __so__ much trouble…_

* * *

Luckily for Jareth, the RTD 125 bus had just pulled into the circle at the GELA visitor center: he materialized walking down and out the back steps. There were multiple parking lots to his chagrin - he hoped he wasn't too late. Jareth tentatively felt out where Irina was by her personal energy and began to trace her the way a compass points North.

* * *

The feeling of inexplicable, nagging doubt was as strong as it was sudden in spite of the fact that the cause was strangely vague. _What did I forget?_ Irina thought. _This is __crazy__! I am __sure__ I had everything when I left the house and I didn't rearrange anything while I was in the car…oh, better make sure; there is time enough._ Maybe her doubts were justifiable. After all, she _had_ been running late this morning - she'd slept straight through the alarm (which she never did; she was usually a pretty light sleeper) and ended up having to throw herself together in under ten minutes. Fortunately for her, when she arrived at work she was informed that the Nikola Motors meeting had been unaccountably pushed back so there was no harm done. But Sarah still wasn't there. It wasn't like her to be late - _ever_. Irina was out the door heading for the lower lot (all the good spots had already been taken by the time she'd gotten there) when her cell phone rang: it was Sarah.

"Sarah, hey! I was seriously starting to get worried about you! Are you all right? Where are you?"

"*sigh* home, sick."

"Not you, too!"

"Sucks, I know. Anyway, um, do you see a thin guy with long, blonde hair anywhere in the vicinity wandering around like he doesn't know the place?"

"…yes, _why?_"

"Oh good," Sarah breathed in relief, "he's actually where he's supposed to be! See if you can flag him down - he's delivering my notes for me so you can make the presentation in my place."

"_You_ on speaking terms with a _man _who's interest in you _isn't_ purely scientific?"

"Don't read too much into it; he's an acquaintance of sorts. I'll talk to you later, okay? Bye!" Sarah hung up.

_That__ was abrupt, _Irina thought suspiciously, putting her phone back in her purse, _almost like she didn't want to talk to me about him. That doesn't mean I cannot interrogate him __myself__, though,_ she smiled and waved at him. The handsome stranger saw her and smiled in recognition, quickly crossing the last few lanes between them.

"You are Irina Tereshkova, correct?"

"Yes." It was strange - he had a crisp, British accent but from his choice of vocabulary it was like modern English wasn't his first language, either, and she immediately empathized with him.

"I am Jeremy Xavier," he extended his hand and shook hers warmly, his eyes never leaving her. _Just because I'm bound to the truth to __one__ individual doesn't mean that I can't cover my tracks __elsewhere__. _"I believe I have something for you," he stated simply as he handed her the folder that had been stashed under his left arm. She perused the pages carefully as if to make sure nothing was missing. She got to the end and seemed satisfied with the contents - and that odd, nagging doubt had just dissipated on its own.

_Strange.__ Oh well…_

"And with that I am afraid I must be on my way, I am running a close schedule also."

To Irina's surprise he nodded in her direction, eyes closed in the lightest suggestion of a bow, and turned to go and she had the sudden gut instinct that this was someone she could trust implicitly. She _had_ to say something while she had the chance!

"Wait!"

He stopped.

"One question before you leave. How did you get Sarah to talk to you?"

Her tone was pressing and urgent for someone who had literally just met him and it intrigued him. He turned back around, amused interest in his eyes, his characteristic arch smile threatening to spill through his charade.

"I sang at her balcony - how else?" he teased. That wasn't entirely a lie; there were once many balconies in the Great Maze Hallway at the center of his castle and he _had_ been singing to her as she frantically ran all over them after her little brother.

Irina rolled her eyes. "No, really, how did you make it all the way through her social barricade so easily?" Irina had held up her hands temporarily in gesture as she talked, fingers spread about a foot in front of her face as if to fend him off. Sudden concern flooded his features and he scrutinized her for a moment.

"Is it really that rare that Sarah speaks to a man?"

"Well, it just so happens that she seems to be notorious for being extremely cagey around perfectly good guys. I gave up trying to set her up or even just introducing her to my friends of the male persuasion years ago - she refuses to date." She shook her head and looked away. When she spoke again, she sounded confidential. "I think she had a really bad experience a long time ago and she's never gotten through it, like it made a permanent imprint on her psyche." She looked back to him. "I've not been the first to try to talk to her about it but she refuses this also. _You_ ask her," she nodded her head, her eyes pleading, "maybe she will be willing to talk to _you_, yes?"

_Ye gods, I had no __idea_, he thought dejectedly, _I should've anticipated this and dug a bit further into her subconscious. No matter, the damage is already done and clearly __extensive__. The __least__ I can do is try to clean it up, try to win her faith back in humanity if not in __me__._ His expression was at once serious and consoling. "I promise I shall try when the time is right."

"Good," Irina smiled. "If you ever find out who the bastard is and want help beating him up, you let me know," she accentuated each word with a finger shake, her eyebrows knit in play-scolding, "this is important, alright?"

Jareth surrendered a laughed smile that turned wryly playful. "May I depart now?"

"…yes."

"Farewell, Irina Tereshkova!" He saluted stiffly, turned and marched away. Irina laughed and was well-aware that she was blushing by now as she watched him go.

_Strange he may be but he has a good heart. And if Sarah's too much of a nutcase to figure __that__ out, __I'm_ _taking him!_

* * *

_Spirited__ thing, that one, _Jareth thought with a smirk as he left the complex in the direction of the nearby ditch. _No wonder Sarah likes her. _The next bus wouldn't be coming for quite some time if the schedule he had obtained on the last one in passing was correct: he would simply have to find another place to wink out.

Liza Gulch wasn't much to look at if one liked pristine landscape but it _was_ the largest waterway in the area, completely overgrown with elm, cottonwood and scrub oak in the wilder sections. It looked as if the water had once flown much more freely through it than it did now from the growth tracks and the odd dead trees but there was still just enough water to keep the rest alive. Jareth trod through long buffalo grass, bleached dry at the beginning of the summer, showing casual difference to the trees and their dryads in passing; some of the larger ones had preceded the nearby civilization by at least one good earth-century. He reflected on what Irina had just told him about Sarah and how considerate and …yes, _generous _Sarah was being with one who had no doubt scared her more than half to death in the past. So much so that she had a hard time getting close to the opposite sex at all. He had been initially relieved to find her unattached upon his arrival but the thought of her being completely alone was a surprisingly distasteful one.

_Oh come now, all that can't be totally __my__ fault. _He sighed. _No, just __enough__ of it; she was already having antisocial tendencies and I gave her the final push into the corner. Oh there's __so__ much that needs to be undone. Perhaps I will be breaking down her barriers to our __mutual__ benefit; I __must__ try. _

Once he estimated that he was out of range of the cameras, he found a small clearing surrounded by a few large trees. Carefully making his way partly down the steep face of the ditch and nodding in acknowledgement of the living cover he was taking advantage of, he disappeared and teleported back into Sarah's living room, finding her sitting on the couch with a patchwork quilt over her legs. A mug of some kind of herbal tea and crackers she had been tentatively consuming at irregular intervals were on the coffee table - and it gave him an idea.

Sarah jumped at his reappearance, eyes wide in surprise. When she realized it was just Jareth she exhaled in relief, one hand still held to her pounding heart. He reflected that he would have to be more careful of her - popping in and out just wasn't _done_ in the mortal world.

"I _am_ sorry I frightened you, Sarah; I'll use the door next time."

His immediate apology, while reassuring, seemed a bit out of character for one so used to doing things his way regardless of others, but she knew it was honest: he had to be.

"…thank you. How did it go?"

"Ithink it went rather well," he stated, walking over to the couch and sitting a respectable distance from her. "You should probably be aware that I introduced myself as Jeremy Xavier. Jareth Ravensong simply isn't a human name - it's a dead giveaway."

Sarah nodded; the precaution made sense. She suddenly smirked. "Mr. X, Y, and Z."

"Precisely."

She turned her attentions back to the television set. Jareth couldn't quite make out what was so entertaining about a screaming session and knit his brows.

"What is this that you're watching, Sarah?"

"A talk show."

"It looks like an interrogation. And not a very civil one at that."

Sarah sighed. "You want to see what else is on?" She grudgingly handed him the remote, showing him which buttons to press, hoping against hope that he wouldn't give into what seemed to be a universal male impulse: channel surfing. He only flipped a couple of stations when he stopped on PBS. Sesame Street was on and Count von Count and the Countess were giving the number of the day at a dinner party at the castle in a musical sequence. Sheep and chickens were waltzing in the background. Jareth had never seen anything like it; it was so strange and yet, he had to admit, entertaining and possibly even educational. Sarah watched his amazed fascination with suppressed amusement.

"Are all those puppets?" he pointed at the screen, not even meeting her eyes.

"Yep. This is Sesame Street - it's a show designed to teach preschoolers their letters and numbers among other things. It's been around for ages - I watched this when _I_ was a little kid."

"Is it just that castle and those vampires?"

"Oh no, most of it takes place on a made-up street in New York City - hence the title. There are so many characters I can't even keep track of them anymore."

The sequence ended and he turned to her and smiled.

"Did you have a favorite character when you were small?"

"Kermit the Frog," she said matter-of-factly.

"_Kermit_ the _Frog?_" He sounded bemused. "What is he like, your Kermit?" he pressed, leaning in slightly with a conspiratorily teasing lip smile and a playful frown as if she had just mentioned another man. Sarah laughed, suddenly self-conscious, trying to hide from his gaze - this was ridiculous! When she cautiously met his eyes again, the expression hadn't changed one bit. He made her feel like she was thirteen again; how could he just _do_ that?! Dammit he was gorgeous, and all his attention - albeit in play - was on her.

"He was a news reporter - a journalist," she said finally. "Covered fairy tale stories as they 'happened.'"

He finally turned away from her, nodding as if it were the most logical thing on earth.

"Shows you how old-school I am - I don't think he's even _on_ it anymore. Crossover character from the Muppets."

Jareth was about to ask what the Muppets were but thought better of it; that was enough interrogation for right now. He turned his attention back to the program.

"I think my subjects might actually get something out of this. I'll have to look into fixing up a projector in the Square."

Sarah could just see it - all those little goblins crowding in to watch Sesame Street in the morning. It was just too novel. He handed the remote back and got up, stretching his arms.

"Have you had anything to eat yet?"

"Sort of."

He simply nodded and walked into the kitchen. "Sarah, do you have any garlic?"

"Bottom drawer in the fridge, why_?_"

"You'll see," he smiled. He opened the fridge and dug it out of the crisper.

She watched him separate two cloves and peel them, putting the rest back. When she saw him get her one-sided cheese grater out of the cupboard she audibly winced, sucking breath through her teeth.

"Are you sure_-_"

"It is all right, Sarah; I just have to be careful."

A leather glove reappeared on his right hand and he proceeded to grate both of them with quick, practiced strokes befitting a professional chef.

_I guess practice really __does__ pay off if you have __forever__, _she thought with a touch of rueful admiration.

He transferred it to a small glass bowl - she'd shown him the dishes he could safely microwave - and added a bit of water and lemon juice from the fridge and a rather large amount of a few different ground herbs and a bit of olive oil from the pantry. The mixture was so aromatic that Sarah could smell it from the living room. He mixed it together with one of the heavy-duty plastic spoons she'd bought him and stuck it in the microwave and set the timer for five minutes on the high setting before coming back to sit down.

"Is that your lunch?" she asked incredulously.

"No, it's for you."

"What is it?"

"A precaution. Your immune system is already compromised. You don't want to get any more sick than you already are, do you?"

"Well, no…"

"Well, all right then!" He looked playfully annoyed and rolled his eyes, looking away. "_…_suspiciousgirl," he muttered under his breath with a growing smile.

"Hey! In case you haven't noticed, I'm almost middle-aged! And I think I have a right to be slightly suspicious of you: the last time you fed me something it was drugged!"

"Thirty-seven is extreme youth for one of my kind, so forgive me but I still think of you as a girl. And "all's fair in love and war" - isn't that the human phrase?"

"Said the man who taught me that life isn't fair."

His eyes suddenly brightened, pleasantly surprised. "You remembered that!"

"It was one of the only _real_ things I got out of the whole trip," she answered simply. Jareth smiled and allowed himself to relax, putting his feet up on the coffee table and leaning back into the sofa, arms crossed behind his head. The eye and hand marks reemerged as he stopped concentrating on them.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that you weren't completely ignoring me."

Sarah, still watching him, opened her mouth and promptly closed it again. _Okay, there are __so __many things I shouldn't say right now…_

Jareth met her eyes momentarily, catching the suggestive drift of her thoughts before she turned back to resignedly stare at the television set, trying in vain to ignore his presence. A knowingly wicked, teasing smile spread freely across his face as he casually observed her inner struggle.

_Just let it __lie__ for now, old boy. Let her __stew__._


	7. Closer, Closer

Chapt. 7 - Closer, closer…

_If something else goes wrong I'm gonna eat somebody's __**head**__! _Sarah thought as she sped home down the highway towards home. It had been a particularly trying day at work, with one of the new panels getting shattered by accident and the same dumb old tired questions getting asked over and over and over. She was genuinely thankful it was over, but it had left her feeling like she was banging her head against a wall getting nowhere but behind, working for idiots and…she almost came out of her skin when that brand-new solar panel got dropped - she'd been building it for weeks and now she had to start all over again and it wasn't even her fault!

_I know life isn't fair but that doesn't make it suck any less._ She knew she needed to calm down - she'd almost cut somebody off just now - but she just couldn't stop thinking about it, like it kept playing on loop as she fumed. Somehow, the car happily knew the way to her apartment building and got her there in spite of herself. _Jareth. __Shiiiiiit__. _She was not ready to deal with him today. She trudged up the two flights of stairs, wearily unlocked the door and let herself in. Without even turning around, she could noticeably tell something felt different - it was then that she spotted him: he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, hands turned up and open, resting on his knees. His eyes were closed and there was a languid smile on his lips. What she took to be his third eye was glowing_._

_Whoa, __weird__…__okay__…_she thought warily but it was hard to be too wary; the closer she got to him, the more her defenses came down, it was so strange. It actually felt _calm_ in the room and it was painfully obvious that he was the source. Jareth sensed her presence and slowly opened his heavy-lidded eyes as the bindi went out. It gave Sarah goosebumps just seeing him like that.

"Hello, Sarah," he breathed, sounding genuinely serene - she immediately envied him of it. "How was your day?"

"Don't ask," she replied annoyed, walking to the kitchen to get a seltzer water out of the fridge.

"That good, eh? I am sorry to hear it." He could feel that she was all tension as she walked back into the room.

"It's just that…do you ever have days where it feels like the entire universe is against you?!"

"All the time," he sighed.

"Well, this was one of those days for me. Weeks-worth of construction under a microscope destroyed in seconds! I almost cracked myself! And then the reps keep breathing down our necks demanding simple, stupid answers for what's holding up production and-"

Jareth held up his hand to stop her. "I get the picture. Come here; sit down."

Curious but having a feeling where this was going, Sarah knelt in front of him - she wasn't about to let him see up her skirt. Jareth never politely asked for anything unless he was truly desperate and Sarah had simply come to accept the fact that a calm command was about as close as he got under normal circumstances; it wasn't meant to be rude, it was just the way he was.

_Must be the __royalty__ thing, _she mused."I never knew you meditated," she said quietly.

He simply shrugged. "No need for you to. Although, seriously, how did you think I've managed to keep some semblance of sanity all these years?" That got an appreciative laugh. "If my goblins ever figure out what it is I actually do during 'naptime' it's the end of the world." He took a breath then closed his eyes for a moment and suddenly shook his head, opening them again. "Not close enough. Use me for a chair."

"What?"

"In order for this to work, you have to be completely within my energy field. Under normal conditions I project past ten feet. As it is I'm barely clearing three right now and you're only doing about nine inches versus the standard human foot because you're tired, angry and upset. You have to come closer."

"Sounds like a sneaky way to get a woman to sit in your lap to me."

He raised one eyebrow at the suggestive remark. "If you want to continue smoldering about something which you have absolutely no control over, I suppose that's your own business. I just thought I'd be a _gentleman_ and offer to _help_." And with that he closed his eyes again.

Wave after wave of warmth passed over Sarah, deliciously weakening her will to fight him, it felt so good_, _so right_…_he was so beautiful like that…

"Wait!"

Jareth opened one eye and quirked a smile.

"Care to join me?"

Sarah crawled over and perched in his lap - it struck Jareth as almost comical how careful she was being just now. Her legs were folded but not as tightly as his so she could sit up straight. In doing so, she was still almost forced to lean against him for support. Almost_._ It was still unnerving for her to know that she was practically on top of his-

"Comfortable?"

"I guess," she replied but it sounded pretty non-committal.

He gave a deep, throaty chuckle. "Oh, Sarah, _really_," he drawled, his velvet voice laced with mirth - alright, and just a little teasing - "where is thy faith?" He reached forward and carefully, deliberately removed both of her pumps simultaneously, putting them aside. The air about the way he did it made it seem almost an intimate gesture, the vague psychological shadow of undressing someone, and Sarah suddenly felt rather unsure of herself sitting in the proverbial spider's lap. He continued on as if he didn't notice. "Now, place your hands palm-side up on your knees like I was doing and just let your arms relax." She did so and was surprised when he suddenly interlocked fingers with her with his hands on top. It was a simple clasp but it felt solid somehow. She lightly blushed.

_Jeez, 'I wanna hold your hand…'_

"So you don't float away," he corrected her, "but it is a side benefit of having to do it this way," he smiled. Sarah had to take a deep breath - he could be so annoying sometimes. "Ready?"

"…no."

His voice went soft and deep. "Close your eyes." She did so automatically without thinking. "In the words of the Great Wise Fool, 'I shall hold your essence in the palm of my hand like a stone.'" He gave her hands a light squeeze and grinned. "Now hang on tight."

The next thing she experienced was a falling sensation as she slowly got pulled along with him into his meditative state. She was no longer aware of her body and unsure of where she was but she was far from afraid: she was completely surrounded by a golden, glowing light; surrounded and swallowed up in love as if someone were embracing her in every sense of the word - heart, mind, and soul. If she had been aware of her eyes she would've cried for joy, the euphoria was overwhelming. She could begin to see through the golden haze that she was floating amongst dazzling stars and galaxies of every color and description, too numerous to count, too beautiful to behold. There was a pulsing sphere like a nucleus beside her in that ball of light and somehow she just _knew_ that it was _Jareth_; it _felt_ like him. She was _inside him _looking out into the middle of nowhere, held, completely safe, in the heart of the universe.

There was nothing in the world to do but to float effortlessly in perfect _bliss_.

What time is there in such a place? Sarah could've been there for minutes or days or _years_; she couldn't honestly say and neither did she care. There was no room for any thought that was not _peace_, no room for any emotion but overflowing, all-encompassing _love_; all else had been shoved out by the sheer, raw force of it. After an impossible amount of time she began to be aware of movement once again and she was rising slowly like a bubble to the surface, it was getting brighter and brighter and lovelier every moment …

Sarah suddenly opened her eyes. She had slouched back into him she had been so relaxed; she had slid forward a bit, her cheek was currently resting against his bare chest. She noticed that _her_ arms were on top now and his were twisted beneath, fingers still locked. He extricated his arms from hers and looked down at her expression of half-dazed afterglow with a small smile, tucking a bit of hair back behind her ear that had fallen in her face. He lightly grazed the edge of her ear in the process and Sarah was still unselfconsciously relaxed enough to openly shudder in pleasure.

"_Now_," he sounded gently serene again but there was a hint of triumph in his tone, "what was troubling you?"

Sarah blinked. Everything even vaguelyunpleasant that happened all day was just a blur - she couldn't pin down anything! She was amazed.

"…I don't remember…" Oddly enough, the information didn't scare her. It was a relief, actually, like a great and unnecessary weight lifted from her shoulders. His closeness was no longer strange and intimidating, either: it seemed natural somehow - and it surprised her that she was in no hurry to leave. He felt safe, he was so warm… Jareth smiled down at her and began to idly stroke her hair.

_Worked like a __charm_. "_Good_," he crooned, "that was supposed to happen. Now that you're in a bit better of a mood, what shall we do this evening, Miss Williams?"

Sarah looked up at him. "Go back."

He laughed and caught her hands again, forcing her to sit back up. "As you wish," he deeply intoned as he closed his eyes again with a smile.

* * *

It was so strange, to lose yourself to become a part of someone else. He was to later explain to her that this glowing light was the true faery state and that his humanoid shape was but one of many possibilities. But for now, all that mattered was that she was enfolded in him, feeling more safe than she ever had in her entire life. Other painful memories had begun to melt away and fade at the edges and all she wanted to do was to be a _part_ of him, to melt _into_ him, to never let go. His voice seemed to be calling her gently from far away.

"Sarah?"

It took her a while to find her voice.

"…yes…"

"It is time to go back."

"_No_," she whimpered.

The voice was gentle but insistent. "You have to take care of your body now. We can always come back…"

"I don't _wanna_ leave," she pouted.

"_Sarah_," his voice took a playful yet authoritative edge. _She can still be such a child._ "You are taking me _with_ you. You are not alone."

And with that she stopped resisting as the orb seemed to spin in all directions at once, the love just _pouring_ through her now; she couldn't take much more of it - she would _die_ of _love_ - and her eyes suddenly shot open -

He was hugging her, his head bent over her right shoulder, his soft, feathery hair falling against her face. She lightly gasped. He glanced at her and saw that she had come to.

"Hello, there," he whispered.

"Hello," she whispered back. She couldn't make heads or tails of what she was feeling. Part of her wanted to throw all caution to the wind and trust him completely, stop their silly games and just bask in the euphoria she was currently drowning in from his different, calmer energy and the proximity thereof . And that cautious little voice that was screaming 'watch out!'…yeah, that was there too.

Jareth let go of her, sliding out from underneath and standing up in one fluid motion, saving Sarah from a rather awkward deliberation. He carefully gave her a hand up.

"How do you feel?"

Sarah took a step and almost stumbled; he had to steady her by the waist.

"Kinda dizzy," she had to admit, trying to shake her head of it.

He nodded. "It will pass; common problem for first-timers. Try walking around a bit. I'll make us some tea." While Jareth got two mugs of water in the microwave, Sarah was busy clinging to the walls and her scant furniture for badly-needed support.

_What a __head-trip_. "Jareth?"

"Yes?"

"What was that place, anyway?"

"It is taboo for my kind to even speak of - far too powerful."

"Really?" She was surprised.

"Truly. We all have our limitations, dear - some of them are deliberately forced upon us." The microwave went off and he retrieved the glasses, putting a teabag in each from the box on the counter, then bringing them both to the living room and handing Sarah hers. "Powerful things are often destroyed in their defining. What any of us knows of that place from experience is good enough." He clinked her glass.

Starting to feel a bit better, walking and taking intermittent sips of tea, Sarah finally screwed up the courage to ask him something that had been itching at the back of her mind her for quite some time now.

"Jareth, can I ask you a question?"

"I cannot promise that I will always be able to answer you but you are always free to ask," he said, sitting down on the couch. Sarah tended to ask questions that required long-winded answers; he actually felt ready for her for a change. She stopped across the coffee table from him and fixed him with her gaze as he took a sip himself. She narrowed her eyes.

"Which is the real Jareth?"

Jareth nearly choked and looked up at her, genuinely shocked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Because I've seen two extremely different versions of you now and I have to admit I'm having a hard time believing that they're both really you."

Jareth regarded her and let out a long sigh. "I swore upon my life that I would never lie to you - is that worth nothing_?_"

"_You_ swore that you would act toward me as you _felt_, not that you would act as you _are_."

Her accurate perception of the situation made him pause.

"…clever girl," he admitted quietly with a small wry smile. "I said you were smart. So you actually want to know the King of the Goblins, warts and all? Promise not to turn me out on my ear? I didn't know how tolerant you would be so I was being as much of a gentleman as I ever am - that is, at least until I got a better feel for you," he raised his eyebrows pointedly, putting his mug down on a coaster on the coffee table.

Sarah regarded him with a healthy amount of caution. "…so you really are that cruel?"

"When the situation demands it, yes," he said frankly. "Mine isn't the easiest of countries to rule. Most of the 'citizens' - and I use the term loosely - honestly don't give a damn for authority or law. Now, fear they pay heed to. I've had to put down more petty rebellions and civil wars since my coronation than even I like to think about. And it isn't just me; the problem is historically inherent to the province of the Labyrinth. Anarchy seems to be in the blood so-to-speak and always has been as far back as the records go. There was a reason people were shocked when it was my father's death wish that I step up and take the province - the only rule that has ever held sway in that region is force."

"…I thought you said something about it being a prison, too…" She walked over to the recliner and sat down.

"It is, although it isn't something that we talk about much for reasons of society. While there is a dungeon underneath the castle proper for petty criminals - there are carvings of mine in the wall of cell number fifteen," he ruefully smiled for a moment, "most of the convicts sent to me are meant to be kept in the solitary confinement pods that are scattered randomly throughout the underbelly of the Labyrinth itself. Only the worst crimes - murder, rape, and high treason - are ever dealt with there. The goblins…well let's just say that they can come in handy; that's why they are there_._"

_The skeleton in the oubliette, _Sarah suddenly thought with a light shudder.

"A rather hardened murderer," Jareth intercepted her train of thought as she slowly sat down in the recliner, "it took a while for the authorities to catch up with that one; I remember… multiple charges, including the death of an entire sidhe family with young children for the purposes of black magic. I left him to rot." His voice practically dripped with venom at the memory.

_My god. _"Was there…"

"While you were there?" He thought for a moment. "One, but he was on the opposite side of the castle; you never would've run into him." The thought of Jareth torturing prisoners suddenly made Sarah very uneasy. She stared down at her lap. When she spoke again her voice had gone very soft.

"Do you anger easily?" His expression immediately melted into one of concern.

"No, I can assure you that I do not. One has to be pushing the right buttons for quite some time before I even raise my voice. Either that or be a goblin. The place wears on my nerves at times." He winced his eyes shut and massaged his temples for a moment.

_No __wonder_. "But sometimes you seemed threatening while I was there."

"Intimidation is part and parcel of the game, dear. You'll notice that no matter how I acted around you I wasn't angry and all-in-all no real harm came to you by my hand. I never even laid a finger on you - except to dance, and I consider that rather respectful holding."

"What would've happened if I had lost at the end?"

"Ah, but you _didn't_," he pointed at her with a sly little smile.

"What would've happened?!" she pressed.

He looked thoughtful. "I hadn't entirely decided, really; yours was a unique situation. I most likely would've sent your little brother on to the human colony as the treaty requires of me since he was the one wished away but _you_ would've been under no such obligation since you had come to my realm of your own free will. But you could never have gone home again - normal time would've resumed immediately and ten earth years would've passed in the first five minutes. Please don't be frightened, Sarah - I would've taken good care of you. You would have most likely become my ward under the inter-kingdom laws until you came of age in a couple of years - yes, it is sixteen for a human where I come from - at which point you would have been free to choose who you owed fealty, either to stay under my jurisdiction or move on to another Underground kingdom. If you had chosen the latter I would've strongly advised that you join the human colony and live amongst your own kind - there are few provinces that would truly welcome a human with open arms. But I would have more strongly hoped that you chose to stay, whether I openly said it or no. I know it's a bit selfish but you were young and smart and vital - you made me feel alive again."

Sarah was looking down again, self-consciously figiting when an idea suddenly struck her and it was all she could do to keep from laughing.

"What?"

"I'm your midlife crisis aren't I?!" Sarah laughed.

"Next question," he chewed out, looking playfully annoyed.

"No, I think that's it," Sarah smiled. "For now." She took another sip.

"May I ask _you_ a question?"

"It all depends on what it is," she raised her eyebrows at the mug she held in both hands in her lap.

"Why is it so difficult for you to get emotionally close to a man? Do you secretly prefer women?"

"_**WHAT?!**_" Her extreme reaction caught him off guard and he almost winced.

His manner was guardedly apologetic when he spoke again, carefully choosing his words. "Irina all but begged me to ask you if there was a problem since I seemed to have miraculously made it passed the 'no conversation' barrier."

Sarah quietly exhaled and levelly put down her mug on the coffee table, repressed fire behind her eyes.

"…no," was all she said as she got up and started to walk away, her expression devoid of all emotion, cold, harsh.

"But Sarah-"

"Don't 'but' me!_" _she whirled to face him,_ "_It's none of her damn business! She needs to learn to keep her mouth shut!"

"It _is_ her business," he replied indignant, his voice becoming hotly impassioned, "She is your _friend_ and she is _concerned_ about you, as am _I__!_"

Sarah stopped for a moment, slowly shaking her head, openly glaring daggers at him, fists clenched at her sides. "You actually _need_ me to _tell_ you _why?!_"

"I think I know but I'd love to be wrong at this point - just name the bastard and in 24 hours I can assure you he will wish that he had never been born, let alone allowed to grow up and _mistreat you!_"

His declaration knocked some of the wind out of her sails. Her hands went limp. When she spoke again her voice was just a whisper.

"It _was_ you."

He nodded, sighing and looked down and away. "…I thought so," he said, sounding spent.

Sarah was almost moved seeing him feel that genuinely guilty but her anger wasn't quite spent yet.

"I mean, how could you _do_ all that to someone that young?! I was barely fourteen, I hadn't even started menstruating, for god's sakes! Think about it - how interested was I in guys?"

He thought back for a moment and shook his head, looking lost, not even meeting her eyes.

"Barely at all," he had to confess.

"And yet here you go, promising me the entire universe, threatening me within inches of my life, and that's not supposed to leave a crater-sized impact _how_?!"

Jareth sat there with his arms crossed over his knees, head bowed, feeling extremely low, wondering what on earth had possessed her to take him in in the first place after all _that_. He had no idea that he had hurt her so deeply. She clearly had huge amounts of psychological baggage and emotional trauma and it wouldn't be easy to help her. He ran a hand through his long, crazy hair.

"I don't even know where to begin," he said quietly.

"An apology would be a good place to start," she answered him. Her tone was clipped and brittle but not anywhere near as hostile as it had been only moments ago. He nodded and sat back up.

"Sarah, come here," he patted the seat next to him. She didn't budge. "Please?" His face was an echo of the word.

She momentarily closed her eyes, forcing herself to take a deep breath. She awkwardly walked over and took the proffered seat - to his left - without making eye contact, hands figiting in her lap in extreme discomfort. Memories were welling to the surface, not just of him but of the horrific fiascoes _since_: nearly all of her relationships had ended because she was too antsy and couldn't really bring herself to trust anyone deeply, mentally wincing, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She was trying to remain composed but it felt like it wasn't going to last long - she was going to end up crying right in front of him. Jareth could sense that she was right on her breaking point and knew that he had to be infinitely careful with her now. Unfortunately his voice was so gentle and caring that it was the only touchstone necessary.

"Sarah…"

"_oh god," _she raggedly whispered and turned away, clutching the back of the sofa as tears began to steal slowly down her face. She heard him lightly gasp before he continued. His left hand unconsciously found its way to her thick, smooth hair and gave it a slow, gentle stroke. She closed her eyes, openly crying.

"Sarah…I'm so sorry. I had no idea that this would happen to you. It had never happened to anyone before…no, that's a sorry excuse, most runners only last three hours - they are sent home the moment they give up. By the end I was running out of ideas and I made some very bad decisions, I was panicking. I willingly own up to it - mea culpa as humans used to say. Sarah, please look at me."

"_No_," she sobbed.

"There is no need to be embarrassed or ashamed," he said gently. "Look at me…please." As she reluctantly straightened back up he gently caught her chin and guided her to meet his eyes. Hers were red and there were tear stains down her face. His were haunted with the unutterable look of 'what have I _done?_'

"I'm sorry," he could barely get out, it was almost a whisper. "Gods, I'm _so_ _sorry_," he shook his head. His concern started a fresh trickle of tears. He reached over and caught one with his fingertip. She began to crunch forward, sobbing, and he embraced her shaking form, lightly rocking her. "It's all right, Sarah," he murmured reassuringly against her hair. "Let it all out."

He sat with her for fifteen minutes as all the pain and frustration poured out of her, wracking her body in waves. Sarah was no longer aware of even where she was, let alone who was holding her. She was too caught up in her own memories; too many should-haves, too many ifs, too many chances and beginnings rent asunder by her underlying fears and insecurities. It hurt even more because most of the resulting damage had been her own fault, running from well-meaning men as if they were the devil himself. She never let the feelings see the light of day for fear of what lay behind them. Him.

He had haunted her dreams and nightmares for quite some time after 'The Incident', and while the dreams finally went away, the gnawing distrust lingered and grew - at first partially because she literally couldn't tell anyone what had happened to her: she had a secret that she had to keep at all costs. She told the story to Toby numerous times but never was he lead to believe that it was real. As she got older it got more and more apparent that she couldn't be totally honest with anyone, and, coupled with her initial interactions with Jareth, the writing was on the wall: she especially didn't trust _men_. Life was one great masquerade - who knew what anyone was like behind their social facades? People who seemed surly or intimidating could turn out to be the sweetest person you ever met and handsome, charming strangers could turn out to be monsters in disguise. The paradox had haunted her throughout her life and her social life suffered for it. As did she. It was raw inside there from being locked up too long; she felt wretched but it felt good to finally give it much-needed vent. Sarah started to calm down again and finally realized that she'd gotten his shirt front all wet but he didn't seem to mind. When she was all but spent he finally spoke again, lightly stroking her cheek with the side of his fingers.

"There, now. Feeling any better?"

She sniffled, nodding. "Mm-hmm."

He looked back and down, reaching into a side pocket of his trousers that she hadn't even noticed and produced a bright red handkerchief - it was oddly reminiscent of a magician's trick. To her surprise he gently dried her tears himself before handing it over so she could blow her nose; she turned away and did what she had to.

"Do you do any magic tricks?" she asked him once she was finished; he had piqued her curiosity.

He surrendered a smile. "I was beginning to think you would never ask. Hand that back and I'll show you one," he roughly gestured at the material in her hand.

Sarah looked from the dirty hankie to him. "Are you sure?"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, please - I live with goblins, remember?"

She gingerly gave it back to him. A crystal formed in his free hand and quickly melted into pure flame cupped in his palm. He held the handkerchief over it, making it catch fire before closing his ignited hand to quench the eerie blaze. The handkerchief changed form and color before her very eyes and within moments had become a perfect red rose; he offered it to her.

"An old trick. Usually the flaming material is stuffed into the magician's pocket and the rose produced from the same place faster than the human eye can blink; I just skip the middle step," he shrugged.

She accepted the new rose and sniffed it - the perfume was heady.

"It's a start," she said quietly with just a wisp of good-humored sarcasm.

"Good, because if all that hadn't been enough of a start, goodness knows to what lengths I would have allowed myself to become ingratiated!" he teased her.

She smirked and playfully slugged him in the arm. He blinked in surprise and had to read her mental context. To his amazement it was a good-humored gesture only used amongst human _friends_! But it would be in bad taste to hit her back - it might reflect badly in light of their past. But he would remember it. For later.


	8. Ballroom Revisited

Chapt. 8 - Ballroom Revisited

Life had been strangely normal at the Williams residence for about a week now. Jareth had officially been living with Sarah for two weeks and three days. In that entire period of time she had never seen him use a bathroom _once_. Initially curious, Sarah quickly came to the decision that there were just certain things that one didn't ask about. Apart from being generally strange in habit and manner (and occasionally annoying) he was doing his best to make himself useful. The apartment was cleaner than it had ever been in the eleven years she had lived there. He had even been doing part of the cooking via the microwave, which was a godsend on nights when she didn't come home until 10:00 or later - he always left her portion in the fridge. The spice combinations he came up with were imminently palatable but downright outlandish sometimes and Sarah had to reflect that he came from a _very_ different culture - who knew what he considered normal food at home?

Jareth's experiments to strengthen his power continued but with rapidly declining results. Sarah was beginning to secretly worry that 'civil methods' - testing her in any variety of ways, literally anything that crossed his mind that wouldn't actually hurt her - were ultimately going to fail him and he would end up doing something drastic one day that they would both regret. In any event, things seemed to be going fairly smoothly right now. Or so she thought.

Sarah noticed the Latin music emanating from her apartment again as she entered the building one afternoon - she had left work early again (well, really on time but it was early for her - she had been feeling guilty for having to leave Jareth all by himself so often) and he seemed to be playing it at a more respectable level this time.

_At least he's found something he enjoys here_, she thought with a wry little smile as she walked up the stairs - he hadn't even noticed that she was home. She had nearly caught him in the act a couple of times before but he always turned it off the moment she reached the landing and opened the door for her, pretending nothing had been going on almost like he was embarrassed of it. She figured it was just another of his quirks and had thought nothing of it - until today. It was still playing when she reached her door. Sarah simply shrugged and dug her keys out of her purse, fitting the right one into the lock and opening the door. What happened next really only took a couple of seconds but to Sarah it felt like years: Jareth had pushed all of the furniture out of the way and was dancing by himself in the living room. But not just any kind of dancing. Ballroom dancing. Latin ballroom. He did a couple of quick, sensuous steps and took his invisible partner for a slow dip. Sarah slammed the door shut and ran down the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her - there was no way in hell this was happening! Jareth looked up just in time to see her go as quickly as she came and was out the door on the landing in a flash, leaning over the banister, calling after her.

"Sarah! What's wrong? Where are you going_?_"

"To check into a hotel, and I think I'm going to stay there until you change your mind!"

"Oh Sarah, really," he laughed, his rich, warm voice echoing inside the stairwell. She finally stopped, steps from the door, and looked up. Straight into that devastating smile and strangely kind eyes, full of good-humored mirth.

_Damn him_. Sarah heaved a great sigh and forced herself to march back up the stairs past him into her apartment. This time he closed and locked the door behind her, his eyes following her over to the windowsill. The radio was sitting there, still blaring - she turned it off before speaking to him. "So that was your big secret?"

"Keeping it a secret from you nearly got me killed by the High Court, but yes; I had hoped to surprise you."

"Oh it was a surprise alright," Sarah nodded vaguely, still a bit dazed by what had just happened.

"It looked more like shock to me," Jareth said guardedly, concernedly observing her.

She looked right at him. "You, of course, know why, right?"

"Yes."

She closed her eyes and bowed her head, embarrassed, her expression pained.

"Do we have to go through with this?" She heard him exhale before crossing the room to her. To Sarah's amazement, he lightly hugged her.

"No, I don't suppose we _have_ to," he said quietly, "but I'd like to. Will you at least consider it?"

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "For the power?"

"And for you." He released her and took a couple of steps back, giving her back her 'personal bubble'. Yet another human psychological need he was learning to accommodate; sometimes it was easier if he visualized it literally.

Sarah looked sarcastically incredulous, slightly shaking her head. "For me - since when has any of this crazy operation been about helping me?"

"Since you have such a strong - and I might add unnatural - aversion to dancing with a partner that you literally ran from me just now," he pointed to the door.

"Well, there are some things that you just don't forget," she sulked, crossing her arms, looking away.

His voice went quiet. "I could make you forget. Right here. Right now."

Sarah seemed to think about it for a moment then quickly shook her head no.

He simply gave a nod to her decision. "It is amazing that you remember it in the first place."

A couple of silent minutes went by as she began to pace the floor. Jareth could tell that she was trying to come to terms with the idea of dancing with him again and it wasn't going to be as easy a decision as keeping the memory of the first time had been. She was lightly gritting her teeth from time to time. "Would it help if I answered some questions for you?"

Sarah stopped and deliberately made eye contact but the sentence she was trying to make came out in a disjointed blurt.

"Calm down, Sarah." he reassured her, "Form your thoughts. There's no hurry." He sat down in the recliner and put up the foot rest, laying it back, folding his arms behind his head.

Seeing him lie prone in his usual ensemble - a revealingly open white poet shirt, skin-tight grey breeches she could've sworn were actually tights and knee-high black leather riding boots - was a distraction that Sarah had not anticipated. Staying concentrated on the problem at hand and not on the coaxingly tempting figure spilled out before her was not easy; it bordered on evil, really. Sarah half-wondered if he was doing it subconsciously just to throw her for a loop - it was certainly workingas he fixed her with his calmly aristocratic gaze, awaiting his inquisition. She forced herself to swallow and carefully voiced her first question.

"Who were those other people at the… uh… Ball?"

"Ah yes, bad times compounded with bad company. Well," he changed his view to straight ahead - the ceiling, "you were only in the Firey Forest when I decided to fabricate one of your favorite fairytales. I found your little accomplice running in the opposite direction on the outskirts of the hedge maze."

Sarah cringed to think of Hoggle running away from her like the coward he wasn't. Jareth didn't miss her look of disappointment and was secretly pleased - being emotionally upstaged by a dwarf had been just plain wrong.

"I was initially going to leave him alone when he suddenly heard your cries for help and actually changed his mind - and his course - he could tell from the echoes off of the nearby walls where you were. I don't know what he told you but I _did_ force that peach on him - it was vital to the spell that you ate at least part of it, ideally all of it."

"It tasted strange - I only took one bite," Sarah proudly pointed out.

"I know; I was watching you. If the flavor was off that was my fault, that particular potion isn't an easy taste to cover. It should've been a pomegranate," he tisked offhandedly. "Oh well," he gave her a sly, guilty smile. He was such a incorrigible rogue that Sarah sometimes liked him in spite of herself. "At any rate, that left the ballroom. Such a place is easy enough to fabricate; it is not unheard of for a high-ranking fae to make a new room for every party, but, try as one might, believably conscious guests are surprisingly hard to conjure. I was beginning to fear that I would simply have to dress up my goblins when I remembered that my elder brother Sylvanias was holding a dinner party that night. I should have been in attendance but I was excused due to…matters of state," he looked at her rather pointedly before continuing. "Anyway, I asked him if I could borrow about a two dozen of his courtiers for a couple of hours, explaining my situation."

"And?"

Jareth gave a short laugh. "He thought it was an ingenious idea and agreed to send them when the time was right to cast the spell." He stopped smiling. "I should've anticipated that they would be intoxicated. Sylvanias tends to throw wild parties even by our standards. Dinner is usually the only civil part of the whole evening and sometimes decorum doesn't even hold together that long. I've watched a couple of his 'state dinners' turn into orgies right there at the table."

"Oh my god," Sarah breathed, putting a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

"Like I said, it was a bad idea," Jareth winced, putting a hand over his eyes. "I realized in a hurry that the crowd I received was going to be very hard to control. They were given strict orders not to lay so much as a finger on you nor to let on to the ruse. It didn't keep them from being smug, though. It is rare for a human to get good treatment in my world under any circumstances, let alone as part of a glamour, because they are viewed as an inferior species on the whole by sidhe society; hence the settlements, so that the few humans that are there don't have to deal with the cruel commentary and the prying eyes of the masses."

Sarah was at once disgusted and indignant. "Do you see me as inferior?"

He levelly met her eyes. "No. Both species have their strengths and weaknesses. It is difficult for us to bear children due to the fluidity of our physical natures while it is so easy for a human that it can happen by accident. You have grand religions that center around eternal life because you are so scared to die; death is the main source of grief in your world. Some of my people have begged to die, to end their existence because it has become too miserable to continue, they have seen too much, lived through too much - death would be mercy - and yet they live on and on and _on_."

He seemed to almost shudder at the thought, staring off into space at some distantly remembered horror that Sarah couldn't even begin to imagine. The closest thing she could compare that particular look to was documentaries she had seen of old World War II veterans being forced to recall the atrocities they had lived through. She walked over and put her hand on his and he immediately came back to earth and gave her a small, grateful smile.

"It isn't about who's stronger or who's smarter," he sounded fed up with the whole thing, "it's about what we can offer each other." He flipped his hand over and gave hers a momentary squeeze, his gaze at once pleading and serious. "This universe made us to work together." He released her hand and looked away, sighing. "Unfortunately, there are precious few on my side who could live with that. Some don't even deign to converse with fae beings conceived of as being 'below them.' They weren't just laughing at you dear; they were laughing at us. I was deliberately ignoring them to save face. I know they frightened you; bigotry should always frighten one. One of the ladies had the nerve to tell me to my face that you were too young!"

"Well she was right, I was!"

"Be that as it may," he continued levelly, "publicly reprimanding royalty is tantamount to spitting in my eye."

Sarah quietly gasped, a little smile starting to creep across her face in dawning realization before her hand went to cover her mouth. It did not go unnoticed - Jareth had a caustically sarcastic look on his face as he nodded assent.

"Yes, dear, they were pissing me off too."

Sarah gave a laugh in spite of herself.

"My own trap closing in on me; amusing, I know, but there wasn't much I could do about it with the game at stake. If all had gone according to plan, I would've danced with you for one hour precisely, perhaps waxing romantic, fueling your fantasies, - well you were old enough to have them, dear, but you were completely inexperienced and painfully naïve. Having those women drape all over me was a not-so-subtle hint."

"Really. I didn't get that."

"Well, perhaps I should've gotten you a pony instead," he teased, not missing a beat of her sarcasm - it was just too much fun to bait her. "But it wouldn't have been as much fun," he smiled. "Tiring you out needlessly was of course a side benefit for me because you would have eventually fallen asleep in the cushioned pit in the middle of the room with your 'escort' beside you - you had already exerted yourself so much in the hours prior that it was inevitable had you stayed; I had counted on it, in fact. The next morning you would've woken up in your own bed with no recollection whatsoever of what had transpired the previous night. My goblins would have removed all of the items associated with your little brother from the house. All memories gone." He made a pass with his hand as if to wipe something away. "It would have been as if he had never existed at all."

Sarah shivered at the thought, looking away. But…

"Whoa, wait just a minute," she interjected, "where in this scenario did I forfeit?"

Jareth closed his eyes - he had been hoping she wouldn't notice that and he could just gloss over it as if it were nothing. Then again, with Sarah there was no such thing as easy. He met her gaze again.

"I would've had to kiss you," he said quietly.

Sarah finally sat down on the edge of the coffee table, stunned. She had won, not by seconds but by mere inches; he had been closing in for the kill when she had finally gotten scared of the situation and pushed him away.

"The moment that you gave into me and returned it, it would've all been over. Anything you said or did afterwards wouldn't have made the slightest bit of difference even if you made it all the way to the end."

Sarah openly glared at him, slowly shaking her head.

"Of all the dirty… _**rotten**_ tricks I have _ever_ heard of," she chewed out, "that one's easily the _**lowest**_."

Jareth was silent for a little over a minute, trying to come up with something, anything, to counter her scathing accusation. She was absolutely right, of course, but there had been a certain amount of concern for her in that madness. He had known that she couldn't get much farther in the course without running into the mass of the goblin hoard itself and he had wanted to be able to stop her and send her home before he would be forced by the rules to send them after her. He had almost originally thought of it as a fitting consolation prize for her having done so admirably. What young woman wouldn't enjoy a fantasy like that? Sarah certainly had - that is, once he had plucked her from the jeering, lascivious crowd.

_My __goblins__ would've been better behaved,_ he thought to himself, a bit irked at the memory. _At least __they__ know who's __boss_.

"Well?"

He leaned forward to look at her. "Well what?"

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"You're right," he said simply, eyes apologetic, "but it seemed the least painful way to go about it." He lay back down and continued. "But, as you so vividly remember in spite of my badly miscalculated efforts, we never got that far. As things turned out, when the party went sour with all of them crowding around us at the end, you bolted and I knew the game was up - you weren't going to willingly kiss me if your life depended on it. It was a horrid mess; you were running scared half out of your wits and to me it seemed that there was no escape for you. I didn't realize that you would be able to break the spell on your own," he said, looking a bit thoughtful. "That in itself was a _very_ bad sign: it meant that you were gaining power - my power - and much too fast. I wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer and my next steps had to be chosen with the upmost care. But what you did in the end was unknowingly enact justice for us both. It was priceless, watching those snotty, sorry excuses for aristocracy grappling for footholds, screaming like that as the floor went out." He smiled at the memory. "It was the perfect revenge because a 'lowly' human girl had pulled it off, completely destroying a fae-engineered trap. I almost found that enough punishment myself for them ruining everything that night but Sylvanias insisted on removing all of them individually from the guest lists for the rest of the season. Social disgrace."

"And the fake bedroom?"

"An attempt to salvage the previous plan. Only you didn't stay in there and," he pointedly cleared his throat, "go back to sleep."

Sarah thought. "My dress?"

He smiled. "What about it? Want it back? I can _do_ that."

Sarah laughed a bit embarrassed. She would have given the world for that once upon a time. "No, no, it's not that."

His features took on such a look of honest, crestfallen disappointment that she almost changed her mind. Almost.

"It's just that…how did you…dress me?"

One of his eyebrows went up at her suggestive speculations as a dangerous little smile curved around half of his mouth. Oh dear it had been tempting but he had remained a gentleman - something about exposing her young body to his ancient, jaded eyes while potioned and enchanted just hadn't been right.

"Like I clothe myself."

"Whomp, there it is," she said quietly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh it's nothing," she laughed, looking at the ceiling for a moment.

"Well really it's more like 'blink and there it is' but I think I get the idea," he furrowed his eyebrows playfully, smiling. "Anything else?"

"…how on earth was I able to follow you dancing? That was no mere waltz, Jareth, we were running all over the floor!"

"Now that bit of extra planning actually paid off. I had you enchanted within the other spell."

"What?! Good grief, you got me three times?!"

"Yes," he stated matter-of-factly, nodding.

"Boy, you sure weren't taking any chances," she smirked, shaking her head.

"Well I couldn't exactly say to the company at large 'Excuse me but I must now go and associate my young and inexperienced dance partner with all the nuances of advanced ballroom technique for the next couple of weeks'- it simply wasn't practical. I was only using a form of conscious magnetism, colloquially called the 'come-hither.'"

_That's__ why I was following him around the room!_ "Come-hither? You mean like Dracula?!"

"Better. Nosferatu never had much of a sense of touch."

"Oh my."

"It's nothing to be afraid of - at least not from me. Would you like me to demonstrate it for you?"

Sarah looked incredibly suspicious. "Why?"

"I thought I might try utilizing it while you're learning to dance; the process will go much more quickly."

Sarah started slowly shaking her head. "…I don't know if that's such a good idea-"

Jareth felt her growing tension and apprehension just below the surface and righted the recliner, getting up so fast it she almost jumped.

"Switch with me, only just sit." Sarah eyed him curiously but did as she was bid. He scrutinized her position for a couple of seconds. "Cross your legs on the chair and angle away right."

"Okay, what are you up to?"

"You'll see," he smiled.

_Darn you and your tests. _Sarah warily complied. Within moments he had brushed her hair aside and had started to nimbly massage the higher part of her neck up into the divot at the base of her skull with his right hand. It was so relaxing that her neck immediately dropped forward and her vision swam as she closed her eyes against the wondrous sensation. She literally couldn't respond for a while it was so relaxing mentally but her conscious train of thought slowly fought its way back to the fore.

"…what are you-"

"Just craniosacral massage; keep talking, dear." His voice seemed to have no direction at all yet it sounded very near, no doubt part of her currently altered sensory perception.

"Who do you think you are, my therapist?" she lazily smiled.

"I got you into this mess and I am bound and determined to get you out of it. Speak, dear friend," he urged her gently, quietly. "Those questions were only scratching the surface of what truly bothers you about this."

"It was _disturbing!_ It was _filthy!_" she exclaimed. "In retrospect, some of those masks could've been _dildoes!_"

"Some of them probably _were_," he noted dryly.

"All right, I did _not_ need to know that!"

"Sorry."

"I…I just felt so _defiled_, I mean I know nothing actually _happened_ in there, but…._but_…"

"I know."

"No, you don't know! You don't know what it's like to suddenly find yourself in a room where the only reason that the people in it aren't openly having sex right there on the floor is because they're clothed!"

"I believe that I can confidently assure you that none of that is going to happen this time around. It'll just be you and me and about three-dozen normal humans just out to have a good time. And I'm footing the bill."

Sarah blinked. "What? How?"

With his free hand he stuck a $20 bill in front of her face.

"Dancing isn't the only thing that I have been practicing in your absence." He stopped massaging her and she took the bill in both hands, sitting back into the chair in shock, staring at it.

She looked up at him, wide-eyed. "Is this real?"

"No, I made it," he smiled smugly. "What do you think? Will it pass?"

"Do you have any idea how much jail time I'll have to do it we get caught?"

"I'm serious, how well does it match? I've done this numerous times with coinage but not so much with paper. It was hard getting the grain coloring right."

Sarah examined it carefully. The weight and design seemed right on both sides, he'd even forged the serial numbers well. It was exactly like a crisp $20. Then she held it to the light."Almost," she said. "You forgot the watermark."

"Did I? Let me see."

Sarah leaned forward for a minute and dug her wallet out of her purse on the floor by the chair, produced a real one, and handed it to Jareth. He looked through it with the light from the window.

"I did miss it. Better fix that right away." He took the forged one from her and held it up in his right hand so they were side-by-side. The faded vignette of Andrew Jackson appeared in the correct position. But it still didn't look quite right to Sarah.

"Make it blurrier….more…still more ….less…..just a little more...**stop! **That's _**it**__**!**_" If Sarah hadn't known which was the real one beforehand she certainly wouldn't have been able to tell now.

He turned and handed hers back to her with a mischievous smirk. Placing the fake in his upturned left palm and bringing his hand perpendicular to his torso he covered the bill with his right hand so that his hands were stacked opposite each other. With a sound akin to shuffling a deck of cards, Sarah gaped as Jareth made the one bill into a stack of counterfeits almost an inch thick!

"All the serial numbers had better be different on all those," she warned him.

"No two are alike," he assured her. He gave the pile to Sarah for inspection and she thumbed through it - it was like holding a real wad of dough, it even had that weird ink smell. She handed it back to him with a look of caution.

"All I can say is you'd better be careful. Try not to carry more than a hundred in currency on your person at any given time."

"I will try to remember. Now for the come-hither."

Sarah winced, looking away.

"I give you my word that I won't make you do anything even remotely suggestive."

She looked at him: his face was sincere. "….fine, what do I have to do?"

"Get over to the far wall over there," he gestured to the end of the hallway nearest the front door. She got up and walked over. He strode to the very end of the hall by her bedroom door and turned to face her. "All right, I am going to turn it on now, full-strength so that you can actually feel it. There won't be mistaking this for anything else."

He lightly opened his arms in a welcoming posture, his face completely passive. Without her own conscious volition, Sarah found herself walking smoothly towards him! She tried stopping but she couldn't and trying to go backwards only lengthened her strides forwards. She couldn't even break his eye contact. It should've scared her to death but she was perfectly calm and clear-thinking.

"See? You have complete control of your mental capabilities. Only your body is obeying me."

"Okay, this is just plain freaky, Jareth."

"Understandably so," his voice was kind, reassuring. "Other than the strangeness, are you feeling alright? I'm not tinkering at all with your breathing or heart rate; that should remain natural."

"…I think so."

"Good."

When she reached him she figured he was going to hold her but to her surprise he suddenly dropped his arms and tapped her on the shoulder with his index finger.

"Tag - you're it!" He dove past her back down the hallway laughing and she found herself involuntarily chasing him all around her apartment!

"_Hey__!_"

"Well you never said anything about embarrassing behavior!" he whirled around to face her, impishly grinning. "Okay, stop! Simon says lift your right arm…..Simon says lift your right leg…..now hop on one foot - Simon didn't _**say**_!" he crowed.

"In about two seconds you are going to lose the privilege of sleeping in this apartment!" Sarah ground out through her teeth.

"Alright, alright, stand normally, I'm sorry, it was far too tempting," he said, stifling a laugh.

"Just undo it."

"Humor me just once more and then I'll end it. Come here."

They had ended up in the kitchen. He walked backwards in front of her and she followed him to the edge of the living room, unable to look away from his eyes. She swallowed against the sensation, the only comfort was that it was being caused by someone she _knew. _It was almost like possession only she could still think. And in spite of all that, there was something indefinably …kinky about it, that was the word, him having complete control over her body like that. There were probably fae fetishes surrounding this kind of behavior. No wonder he felt the need to reassure her that he wasn't going to do anything. All of the furniture was still against the walls so there was a fair amount of space in the room. He took her to the far left wall by the bookshelf.

"Wait here," he smiled. She turned to face him as he paced backwards to the opposite side of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. He stopped when he reached the wall. "Now, all this takes is what this whole process takes: faith, and trust" - she watched in wonder as he looked thoughtfully skyward with his hands clasped behind his back and rose a foot off the floor - "and a little something else." With a smirk he reached out into the air and made a slow gesture with his right hand as if he were plucking something up ever so carefully: Sarah felt herself rising off of the floor to hang suspended with him, her pulse and breathing quickening with the realization that she was hovering, technically stranded in midair! She wasn't sure whether to be panicked or exhilarated. He genuinely smiled at her reaction.

"You've wanted to fly ever since you saw a staging of Peter Pan for the first time when you were a little girl. Now, I understand that this isn't quite the same as doing it on your own with a sprinkling of fairy dust but it's the best I can manage - classical levitation and teleportation can take the better part of a century to master and it is significantly more difficult for your species. No need to be frightened, love: I promise I won't let you fall." He held out his right hand for her, leaning forward slightly, letting his legs trail behind him so he was further off the ground. She automatically mirrored him and started floating toward him! She glanced down momentarily and saw her feet not touching the floor, the air was supporting her like water as if she were doing the dead man's float. All her limbs were relaxed, there was no exertion at all; it was ridiculously easy. She was completely suspended, held up by his will.

"This is so trippy," she giggled.

"Trippy?" he sounded amused.

"Like something that can't be real, that _has_ to be a hallucination or a dream, but isn't." _Like __**you**_, she thought suddenly.

"So you like it then?"

"I'd like it better if I was in control of my body, but yeah." She reached him and he caught her right hand, pulling her close.

"So do I," he grinned roguishly. He deftly switched hands holding her arm over her head and gave her a fast twirl as if they were dancing. Sarah gave a yell of surprise and then laughed, realizing what he was doing, the adrenaline still pumping through her veins as he caught her from behind by the waist as she caught her breath. They were both slightly turning from the momentum of that last motion when he leaned in close, his lips grazing the back of her earlobe as he murmured against it, "Now, this isn't all that bad, is it?" Sarah's eyes fluttered closed as sensation trickled through her and it took quite a bit of willpower for her not to melt into him right then and there with him bracing her to himself - her limbs were already completely relaxed, not to mention at his mercy, and Sarah found the idea strangely arousing. A treacherous part of her wanted to lean back into his mouth, to know the feeling of his warm, soft lips upon her skin.

A devilish little smile graced Jareth's countenance: she was starting to lose her inner fight. Soon she would be his. "I'd better put you back down or I just might forget I gave you my word; you are entrancing like this." He cleared his throat and they both hovered back to the floor. He turned her around and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, making her blush. "You're free." He took a couple of large steps back, allowing her room, as Sarah paced and stretched a bit, running in place for a couple of seconds. Humans always seemed to need to reassure themselves that they were still capable of controlling their bodies after such a strong and obvious magnetism spell. "All right?"

"Yeah, just…just give me a minute," she waved him off, walking away. Jareth nodded and sat down on the couch, shoving the coffee table back out with his feet - it was never just a minute. Sarah came back in with a glass of water, crashing in the recliner in obvious relief.

"I did it for far too long, didn't I?"

She nodded. "Is it always that noticeable?"

"Rarely. I just wanted you to see it for what it really is. Historically I have led a strange life and who knows what turn events may take. You might even run into another fae someday who will be able to tell that you've had previous interaction with the species and get curious. I want you to be able to recognize how this particular spell feels on the off chance that it may happen again in a situation that I am no part of. It is surprisingly common procedure when dealing with a human one does not entirely trust."

She stopped and looked right at him. "You've done this before."

"Of course."

"Why?"

"…oh, any number of reasons," he sighed, leaning back, looking a bit bored. "Trespassing. Physical threat to my person. Friendly coercion to get information. You name it, it's been done. And torture is not something that is undertaken lightly or often, if for no other reason than it is extremely illegal to do so without just cause as it is determined case by case by the High Court," he said, very pointedly making eye contact as he openly read her mind for the umpteenth time; she'd given up trying to stop him a long time ago. It would bother her a lot more if he were judgmental…but he never was. Never. He seemed to do it mostly because he genuinely wanted to understand her better. He finally looked away, laying his head back on the top of the sofa and closed his eyes for a moment. Sarah had never given any real, serious thought to the true repercussions of aiding and abetting someone like Jareth.

_He must have his share of enemies_, she thought as she took a few swallows of water. _He's afraid of me being used…or being a weak link, yikes I hadn't thought of __that__. _

He stood up abruptly and stretched. "Ready for your first dance lesson?"

"Boy, when you get an idea into that head it sure doesn't go anywhere."

"No," he smiled down at her playfully. She sighed and got up as well, putting down her glass on the coffee table. "In fact, it's probably the reason you haven't kicked me out yet."

"What?"

He looked at her with a soft chuckle. "You're stubborn, too. And I wouldn't have it any other way; a malleable woman is a boring woman."

Sarah blinked in surprise. "Did you just actually break down and call me a woman?"

"Oh - sorry - it won't happen again," he teased.

"You're impossible_!_" she laughed.

"I do have a reputation to maintain."

He assumed the traditional waltz stance and looked at her like 'well?' Sarah rolled her eyes then looked back at him. He was trying to look serious. And was failing miserably; the corner of his mouth kept twitching.

_He's __hopeless_, she thought. _Better go help him or he'll just stand there all night like the stubborn mule he is._ She could swear she saw a twinkle in his eye for a moment. Her heart was pounding as she forced herself to walk up to him. She tentatively placed her right hand in his ice-pale upturned one and rested her left hand on his shoulder, almost afraid to give him her weight and actually accept the support, she couldn't meet his eyes. She watched as his right hand caught her waist with a practiced grip that seemed second nature - just firm enough to lead her and no more - while he clasped her right hand lightly as if it were something delicate that one must take care not to break, like porcelain or fine china. It was exactly like she remembered. She found herself staring at her feet; it was uncomfortably like being a teenager all over again.

"I'm never going to live through this," she laughed nervously, shaking her head, eyes closed. When she opened them again and looked up at him his face was a mask of serene patience. He had anticipated that this was not going to be easy but he had hoped that he wasn't going to have to actually enchant her just to keep her from being self-conscious.

"Yes, you are," he did his best to emanate _calm_ and almost immediately Sarah sighed in relief, accepting the formal embrace, relaxing. "Now, this come-hither spell is going to be extremely light in comparison to what you just experienced; you should even be able to consciously work against it. It is only there to show you when you have made a mistake. As you increase in proficiency I shall use it less and less until you don't require it at all. And you can't afford to look at your feet - I know you want to but it's a bad habit and one that's hard to break later. Iknow where we're both going; look at me. Now shall we begin?"

"Okay," she said shyly, unsure of herself.

He smiled down at her. She could be lovely without meaning to be. "Alright, then you start with your right foot and it's _front_, 2, 3 - to the left-"

"Who's left?"

"Yours. Directions are always given in difference to the lady, so left, 2, 3 - back, 2, 3, - side, 2, 3. Again."

Jareth was a surprisingly patient teacher, not rushing her through the steps, letting her take her time. Sarah was having the light sensation that they were attached at the ankles as if they were tied together by something lighter than air yet more buoyant than a rubber band. The next time around she awkwardly stepped to the wrong side thinking they had to alternate and she felt it stretch as she pulled against it.

"See? That's all that happens. Just use your next free foot; no hopping required," he stifled a smile. "Ready to add the turn?"

* * *

_Author's note: Faking human currency is a time-honored faerie tradition when they're forced to deal with our world - usually it's leaves made to look like coins. This is not an endorsement for mundane mortal forgery._


	9. Trial and Error

Chapt. 9 - Trial and Error

_(This chapter is dedicated to a special friend who once told me around 1:00 a.m. that an owl is not supposed to be a sex symbol. Ha. XD )_

It was no secret that Jareth was experimenting like mad, trying not to act too worried yet trying to find a way out of his predicament. Fast. And when he wasn't wracking his brain for answers he was working hard to keep himself occupied just to keep from worrying into the ground. Sarah had woken up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom once and had found him with the light on in the living room knitting. Knitting. ("One of the lesser-known pastimes of the goblin world, usually fatal," he had said, explaining that he was using a miniature of the double-barbed needle, the real thing being as big as a spear and more often than not used as one in the end - the errand required team effort and goblins had no patience. He point-blank refused to comment on what he had been making - it was emerald green, though.) So, really, it was no surprise to Sarah to see him late one afternoon standing in the middle of the living room with his eyes clenched shut in concentration and his right hand extended above him as if willing heaven to drop him a care package. She simply walked past him to the computer and tried to be quiet as she opened her briefcase and took out her flash drive, sitting down at the terminal. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he suddenly screamed "_**YES!**_" and she whipped around to see: he was staring up wide-eyed at the prize in his right hand - a walking stick! He lowered his up-stretched arm and hugged the object to his chest, eyes closed, panting in exhaustion and relief. Sarah got up quickly and walked over, excited.

"What is it?"

"Get back!"

She jumped at his sudden command.

"You can look but don't touch; it will kill any but its owner, it is far too powerful for you."

She automatically leaped back. "What the hell is that thing?!"

He quirked a smile, looking at it, turning it over in his hands.

"A present from an old friend. An external power source. I had hoped I would never have need of it. I've been trying to retrieve it for days; I was about to give up." He thought for a moment then took the cane in his left hand, vertical to the floor, and made a fist with his right hand next to it; an identical cane appeared in it and he held it out to Sarah. "Take it, it's alright; this one's only an illusion. You can handle it safely."

She cautiously walked back over and took it from him, quickly getting a safe distance away again. It was surprisingly sturdy and had a good heft to it as if it were really meant to be used as a walking stick as well. It was carved out of some kind of dark hardwood with a rounded, silver handle and was embossed with tiny silver sigils in a straight, vertical line all the way down to the bottom. She ran her fingers over them and to her surprise they began to glow. She dropped it in a moment of panic and watched it smash into nothing on the floor.

"What were those?" she asked, feeling a bit sheepish for having accidentally broken the spell just because she had been caught off-guard.

"Celtic runes. They spell out an old human poem, actually - sort of an inside joke, he thought it was apropos. Touching them like that activates the magic. Yours probably wouldn't have done anything but you did the right thing anyway," he reassured her. "Sometimes these are accidentally triggered sympathetically."

"…what's the poem or can't I know?"

The runes on the real staff began to glow, humming. Jareth had to will it silent.

"Not here. Saying it in the presence of the staff will activate it also." He thought for a moment. "Is there a reputable library around here?"

"Denver Public - do you want to go there?"

"If you want to know what it says." He closed his eyes for a moment and the walking stick vanished. "I just stashed it in the outer wall of your apartment building. None can get to it but I," he smiled confidently.

"They'd better not," she said warily, grabbing her purse.

"Anyone who's crazy enough to dig through brick and mortar three stories up for no reason deserves everything they get."

Sarah gritted her teeth; there were some times that it just wasn't worth arguing with him.

The traffic was relatively light; within minutes she had driven them there and they were standing outside of the building. He pointed down the street with a surprised look on his face.

"Who's castle is that?"

Sarah looked in the direction of his query and gave a short laugh. "It's the Denver Art Museum. It _does _look like a castle though, doesn't it? Want to go there afterwards?"

He knit his brows in concern. "What about your report?"

"Oh, it can wait," she said with a wistful little smile. _What I would've given for a guy with a thing for castles when I was __younger_.

They had only gotten through the two sets of front doors when Jareth suddenly winced, gritting his teeth and throwing his hands over his ears. Sarah gasped, immediately concerned.

"What is it?"

"Just open the damn door and let me back out!"

Worried, Sarah hurried him out of the building with the security guard at the desk suspiciously looking on. Once they were back outside Jareth did a full body shiver, shaking his head clear of the noise and pacing. Sarah was looking a bit lost.

"Okay, whatjust happened back there?"

"I can't believe you couldn't hear that; it was piercing!"

"…hear what?"

He turned to face her. "Is there any reason that there would be an extra frequency in that building?"

Sarah thought about it for a moment and it suddenly dawned on her. "Good grief, you can actually hear the radio frequency they use to keep people from stealing the books?!"

"That's what that infernal noise is?" He sighed. "All right, are there any unreputable libraries in the area?"

Sarah laughed. "I wouldn't call it an 'unreputable library' but the Arcadia Library is just down the street on the college campus. Want to try that one?"

"Fine, but you are going in first to inquire whether or not they have the frequency."

Traffic getting into the college, however, was heavy - most of the students were leaving for the day - but Sarah finally managed to find a parking place in the South lot. The Arcadia Campus was fairly small, walkable in comparison to more prestigious colleges and yet it housed no less than three colleges itself. Sarah noted that Jareth chose to walk all the way over on the far sidewalk rather than walk directly by St. Elizabeth's in spite of the fact that he had to keep waiting for traffic so he could cross to the library-side. Sarah took the more direct route past the cathedral and crossed over to him once they were past the parking lot. She was about to ask him about it when she suddenly remembered from one of her books that many faerie creatures seemed to have some sort of aversion to the Church and was immediately glad she hadn't brought it up. They quietly made their way through the student body to the library. Even in his earth attire Jareth was getting more than a few looks from the female populace.

_Oh __brother__, that's just what __his__ ego needs_, Sarah thought as they walked up the stairs to the building.

The doors opened automatically and Jareth noticeably hesitated with a look of mild apprehension. "I believe I shall wait here."

"Try not to talk to anyone."

"Are we concerned or jealous?" he teased.

"…I don't have to answer that."

"Ah, it's both then. See you in a bit," he smiled, sitting down on one of the cement benches across from a large planter overflowing with flowers, facing the windows of the entrance.

Sarah turned around and walked into the building, looking up, trying not to clench her hands into fists. Sometimes she just wanted to strangle him. He had a way of getting under her skin that was unmatched even by her little brother. She was trying to deny the fact but he really _was_ bugging her because he liked her.

_He's probably at the maturity level of some of the boys that go here,_ she thought, watching a kid in tight jeans slung so low his boxers were exposed teasing his girlfriend by poking her in ticklish spots, her slapping him off as they headed out of the building. _Some boys just never grow up_, she smirked wryly, shaking her head. She walked up to the reference desk. "Excuse me, but does this library use the radio frequencying system that Denver Public uses to keep track of its books?"

"I wish," the elderly man at the desk sighed. "You'd think with three schools funding us we'd be able to make more regular updates. We just finished the new Learning Center though; it's toward the back by the periodicals if you want to check it out."

"Alright, thank you."

"Not a problem."

Sarah walked back to the front when she saw out the windows that some geek girl from the Medieval Club in a brown-and-white peasant dress had engaged Jareth in conversation. She could hear her as she came through the door; she was absolutely gushing.

"I feel like such an idiot for saying this and I'm sure you must get it all the time but you really do look almost exactly like David Bowie when he was about thirty! Have you seen any of his concerts or films?"

"Well, I've heard quite a bit about Labyrinth but I've only read the book; it's an excellent story, though," Jareth smiled, thoroughly enjoying the pretense.

"Oh cool, that's been my all-time favorite movie ever since I was a little kid! You have to see it!"

"I shall."

Sarah interrupted them. "Ja-Jeremy," she remembered his alias just in time.

Jareth elegantly stood back up. "Well, it's been a pleasure speaking with you, Mariah. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day. Study hard!" he teased over his shoulder, walking to the front door with Sarah. All the girl could do was nod dumbly for a moment, eyes wide and dreamy. She suddenly found her voice.

"…yeah, you have good day, too!" She flushed furiously and ran down the steps toward the Arts building with a huge smile on her face. Sarah just rolled her eyes and looked at him with a wry smile.

"You enjoy the attention and you know it."

"What is it to you if I do?" he countered playfully, knowing that as much as she denied it it _did_ bother her. "You know, you could take acting classes here. Apparently it is not unheard of for adults to enroll at Metropolitan State; she asked me if I was as student."

"And when would I fit this in with my job?"

"It was just an idea," he said quietly. They walked over to the guest terminals.

"This works a lot like the internet search engines you're used to. Just type what you know in the boxes."

To her surprise he highlighted the author field and keyed in _Yeats_. A series of books popped up and he scanned them, locating the correct one, one on Celtic folklore.

"What are all these letters and numbers listed after the title?"

"That's the code for where it is in the library. There are probably hundreds of thousands of books here so they use it to try to keep everything organized."

He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing it for a moment. "Interesting." He closed out the screen.

Sarah blinked. "Don't you need to write it down?" The address had been rather complicated and full of digits.

"I remember it," he smiled smugly.

Turning around, trying to ascertain which way to go, he suddenly decided and dashed fluidly up the main staircase with catlike ease. Sarah almost had to run to keep up with him. The gleam of the hunt was in his eye as he made his way down the row of bookshelves right in front of the termination of the staircase before darting between two of them. Careful not to touch the metal shelves, he walked briskly down the aisle, suddenly stopped about two-thirds of the way down, scanned the shelf to the right and plucked a dusty tome from the top rack. Thumbing through the volume as if he already knew it well, he found his quarry and handed the book to Sarah. And flinched.

_Damn, it can track me this far?! I might have to work with it a bit more when we get back home. _He suddenly stopped at his quaint train of thought: he felt at home with her, bed-on-the-floor and all. _No time for this_, he tersely reminded himself. "Read it quickly to yourself - don't even whisper it under your breath - and put it back as if it's nothing."

He sidled past her and began to leisurely make his way back over to the staircase, taking note of some of the other authors they had: he would have to come back at a later date. The small courtyard out the window looked charming; there were no doubt lilacs in the spring. Nothing like the crazy, sprawling statuary gardens he had, he thought with an almost wistful smirk, shaking his head. He hoped everything was still in one piece or at least in salvageable condition: without constant pruning it was virtually impossible to navigate the hedge maze. He tried not to think of idiots getting trapped and lost as he waited for Sarah.

There was no question of which poem he had been referring to - the lettering was glowing. They must've accidentally triggered that staff anyway. Sarah quickly scanned the first stanza of the refrain and immediately smiled in understanding:

Come away, oh human child,  
To the forests and the wild,  
With a faery, hand in hand,  
For the world's more full of weeping  
Than you can understand.

She snapped the book shut and put it back on the shelf, the sobering meaning suddenly sinking in. It was the siren call of faery; the song of the abductor. No matter whether the children were freely given or not, the fact remained: he was taking them. Taking them from the face of the earth, never to return. It seemed to add back some of his sinister mystique that she had almost begun to forget about. He was being so nice to her that it was easy to forget who and _what_ he really _was_ and the thought was almost unnerving. He was so good at slipping through her defenses that at times the process was enjoyable.

_No, don't overdo it_, Sarah thought, walking over to where he was waiting, _you __are__ starting to __like__ him._ It was fatally stupid. It was completely hopeless, but she couldn't deny her slowly growing attraction toward him. It was all the little things, she suddenly realized; how he cared abouther and forher, how he tried to make her feel happy and special, how her heart raced sometimes when he smiled at her unexpectedly. Not to even acknowledge the fact that he seemed to like hitting on her on occasion. _He must be suffering from female withdrawal_, she thought wryly. She wasn't about to call it a crush but if this insanity kept up…

He turned and smiled at her and as if on cue Sarah's heart started doing double-time.

"Shall we?"

* * *

Jareth casually took in the buildings around him as they drove back over to the museum. The contrast in structural styles was quite eclectic - from Roman imitation to that new, sleek, technological look - and it gave the general impression of a collector with a set of completely unrelated objects. Not that it wasn't interesting but it seemed a bit tacky somehow having them all bunched together like that. The outer façade of the museum was reminiscent of a medieval fortress on one side and a skyscraper tied in knot on the other. The roof jutted out at an impossible angle and ended in an elongated, sideways pyramid. _How odd_, he smirked. There were a couple of large abstract sculptures out on the lawn but he paid them little mind as they entered the building.

Walking up to the ticket counter, Sarah managed to lie to the lady behind it that both she and Jareth were Colorado citizens (he'd made a fake ID, too) - it made the tickets a couple dollars cheaper but it was still pretty expensive. When Jareth saw the amount ring up on the register he mentally winced: he didn't like the amount of money she was spending just to keep him entertained. As the lady handed Sarah the tickets and they started walking toward the main floor temporary exhibit, Jareth hooked her elbow with his hand. She looked back.

"I'm paying for dinner, then," his look a bit concerned.

"I'm in no position to argue with you on that one," she smirked.

The traveling exhibition on the first floor was old, Depression-era southern quilts; blocks, zigzags, starbursts and just about any other shape and fabric imaginable, all extremely colorful.

"I sense an obsession with pattern going on here," he quietly remarked with a hint of sarcasm after they'd seen about fifteen of them. In spite of how abstract the 'art' was, Jareth found that the sheer enormity of the pieces created a personal reaction to each one. The fields of color had at effect all their own, inviting the imagination to create what wasn't there at times. They rounded a corner and Sarah saw one that suddenly unaccountably reminded her of a night sky of purple with a building off in the distance.

"What does that one look like to you?" she pointed.

"Oh no, not again," he groaned, "I thought we were here to escape that nonsense."

"I'm serious, this is pretty neat. Just try," she encouraged him. He squinted at it for a moment.

"A river. With a bridge. Right there in the middle, you can see the water sparkling," he pointed.

"…I didn't see that, but you're right, too!"

"Why, what did you see?" he said, amused at her sudden interest.

"Night and buildings. Up there."

"Ah, I see it now. So this is abstract art, eh? Anything goes?"

"No wrong answers," Sarah nodded. "Even no reaction isn't a bad reaction."

"So the other galleries were a success after all?"

"I guess so," Sarah laughed.

Jareth looked at his museum map as they exited the room. "Can we look at their European collection next?"

"Sure."

"It's six flights up, though. Would that I could teleport us there instead of having to climb them."

"One step ahead of you," Sarah said, hitting the up button for the elevators. Momentarily the door to the right one opened. Jareth looked at the interior of the small box with slight trepidation - the entire inside was metal. "It's alright, come on," she said, holding the open button down so the doors wouldn't accidentally touch him. Gingerly avoiding the edges of the doorway, Jareth strode inside and stood in the very middle without touching anything. _Here's hoping this one doesn't jolt,_ Sarah thought as she pushed the button for the sixth floor and the door closed. "This whole thing's going to go up in a minute, so hang on."

"To what?!"

"Just prepare to keep your balance."

He nodded and spread his stance slightly. There was a mild jump at the beginning but thankfully it was a smooth ride the rest of the way up. Momentarily the doors opened again and they stepped out into the sixth floor foyer.

"Clever little device," Jareth said quietly, looking over his shoulder at the elevator with mild admiration.

"We're all glad you approve," Sarah teased him.

He just looked at her and shook his head with a smirk. "You, my dear, are getting away with saying far too much to a monarch. You'd better watch your tongue; it might run away with you one of these days."

"You ask for it."

"As do you."

"…are you here to banter with me or are you here to look?"

"All depends on what you're looking at," he smiled.

She blinked in surprise. "You're incorrigible!"

"Perhaps we'd better move on before one of us gets the upper hand," he teased.

As Sarah suspected, he overtly avoided all the walls with Catholic figures - paintings and sculptures of saints and Madonnas - and headed straight for the large ornately sculpted headstone of an ancient Roman sarcophagus. It depicted a reclining man and woman with a few small cherubs playing at the foot and head of the cot along with a few even smaller animals. The inscription was carved along the bottom in Latin characters almost an inch big. The piece had clearly seen better days - the man's head was missing and the woman's had been reaffixed somehow, the seam in the neck was visible. There were other signs of wear but, really, it was in surprisingly good shape considering how old it was. It had probably been exposed to the elements at one point in time. Jareth's gaze wandered over the entirety, taking in every detail, and he sighed.

"Now this brings back memories. I hadn't seen this one but it used to be quite common practice for a senator and his wife to pose for a tombstone like this. The scroll he is holding indicates his trade as well as his status. It's a pity they let the Empire go to hell the way they did. And to think it was something as simple as lead in the water supply."

To say the Sarah was stunned at this casual topic was putting it mildly; she was still trying to process what he'd been saying. Jareth looked over and had noticed her shock; he seemed to be awaiting her response. She finally found her voice.

"Memories?" she whispered, afraid that someone else might overhear this absolutely insane conversation. "You remember the Roman Empire?!"

He met her eyes with an odd little smile. "Are you aware that they invaded the British Isles? I did some traveling after that just to see what they were all about."

"Well, yeah, it was something we had to learn in school," she blurted, "but…but that means that _you_….are…..." she wordlessly shook her head, eyes wide.

"Older than dirt, yes," he finished her sentence flatly with a sardonic little smile. She just blinked in surprise at his open admission. "Well, I'd rather say it myself than hear whatever charming little axiom you were about to come up with," he countered slyly, entering the research room. There were ancient Egyptian artifacts up along the ceiling above the bookcases and he was studying them as he continued. "You mentioned something to the effect that I am in midlife once and you are correct - I am in the middle of my years. If all goes well, I could easily live another millennia-and-a-half, only showing signs of aging during the last fifty years. What do you think?" he turned back to her, studying her face with the same casual intensity, though he was noticeably uneasy. "Now that you know how old I truly am?"

Sarah's mind was racing as she broke his eye contact to stare at the polished wood floor across the room. _He's watched entire __civilizations__ go by! He's probably had a hundred lovers at __least__! At the rate we're destroying the earth he could outlive the entire __planet__! Why in in all the great and glorious cosmos was he ever interested in __**me**__?! _

Suddenly a warm hand gently clasped hers and she looked back. His expression still seemed a bit tentative but there was reassurance in his eyes. A little wisp of a hopeful smile.

"I don't know what to think," Sarah sighed, openly sagging a bit, slowly shaking her head. "It'll definitely take getting used to."

He nodded quietly at her reaction, closing his eyes; there had been a good reason he hadn't wanted to tell her. She would never view him quite the same way ever again. He had to admit her train of thought made a lot of sense. It would seem strange that he would be interested in a being with so short a lifespan.

_Small life, big __potential_. Certainly he had seen a great deal more than she had but age had nothing to do with natural intelligence, wit, charm, and heart. And Sarah had them all. In spades. But he shouldn't say that. Not right now. He reluctantly released her hand. "If it's any consolation at all, if you aged at the rate I do, your current physical maturity level would place you around 1,800 years old. A mere century or two isn't that bad of a discrepancy, really."

Sarah smirked. They began to make a circuit of the portraiture in the next room. "You know, humans do just the opposite of what you just did there - everybody wants to be younger."

"Quite understandable for your species. How is it done?"

"It's where you count 'dog years' and then compare them with your own age and _your_ age suddenly doesn't look so bad," Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Ah, so by your logic we should be doing this the other way around_,_" he tapped his chin with his pointer finger, staring at the ceiling for a moment, " ….which makes me…..40? Does that sound more acceptable?"

"I guess so but you're really stretching it, J."

"So, really, you'd rather I were older? Now that's interesting," he teased her.

"I'd rather not talk about it anymore. Like I said, it's weird."

"As you like it."

"Oh god, you lived through Shakespeare, too, didn't you?"

"The subject is changing," he said forcefully. He began to quietly gossip with her about some of the more famous figures in the portraits - he was at least aware of quite a few of them - as if it were yesterday's tabloid. The conversation was baffling but he at least seemed to be loosening up a bit. With the question of his age finally off of his back, he seemed more comfortable being himself. The furniture room received the same casual glance that the sculptures outside had - all except two pieces, an elaborate chair and a glided armoire, that were scrutinized from tip to base - he no doubt planned to reproduce them later from the way he was talking. They spent as much time as they could in the European section but Sarah knew they only had an hour before the museum closed for the day so she had to rush him through quite a number of sections. He just laughed at the small hallway on the second floor completely devoted to modern chairs ("Who in their right mind would even want to sit in that?") so she knew she could skip the 'new' art section and he wouldn't miss it at all. That left the Asian, Native (North, Central and South) American, African, and South Pacific. All of these sections were overflowing with religious items - totems, talismans, masks, idols - and to her surprise Jareth was not only 'feeling' them but making signs of acknowledgement towards quite a number of them as if there was actually an entity present! The South Pacific work was completely new to him - his eyes were lit up like a little kid in a candy shop the whole time and it was all she could do to drag him out, having to remind him again and again that they didn't have much time if he wanted to see the rest.

"If I were at full power, time would not be a problem," he finally replied testily.

"Yes. I know," she sarcastically countered, getting tired of fighting him. "But you're not. Come on, there's one last thing I wanted to show you."

They went back down to the second floor again and this time crossed the bridge into the modern art building. The sides of the bridge were completely glass so one could see out into the city and the bustling street below. The scene was strangely panoramic and Jareth was taking it in as quickly as possible because soon they were in the other building. There was an absolutely huge empty sitting area full of chairs and couches with a coffee kiosk at the end. A small children's area was near the windows to the far left and a couple of little kids were over there, playing on a big, plastic turtle as if they were riding it, telling it to go faster and giggling while their mother read a book. Sarah caught Jareth's gaze lingering over them with a strange, watchful care as they passed through the sitting area. Even this distant in regard, it was just too close for comfort for Sarah's memories. She was surprised when she felt him take her hand seemingly out-of-the-blue and looked at him.

"Children represent hope," he said quietly. "I have developed a fondness for them."

Sarah swallowed and slowly nodded, trying to accept what he had just said and knowing that it would take a lot longer than a few minutes. Thankfully they got to the large doors at the other side of the room and Sarah opened one of them for him. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for and she couldn't wait to see his reaction.

"Here we go," she casually announced but her manner told him that she was just dying to show him whatever was in this room. He strode through the portal and into a gigantic hallway almost completely taken up by an open, atrium-style 'circular' staircase with large landings. Only it was trapezoidal. It was all painted a cold white except for the floor which was unreflective black tile. There were no windows except for a couple of small skylights. Jareth's eyes went wide as he looked up and he gasped - the entire corridor was deliberately made to look close and crooked; everything appeared to be at odd angles! The entire staircase was leaning, jutting and receding in at least four or five different directions at once….no, it was only a trick!. The carefully positioned lighting amplified the effect. There were no linear planes except for the floor and even that looked tilted to the left the illusion was so strong, so complete. The sight of it was enough to cause vertigo - in a human, that is. Sarah was leaning against the wall banister for support, gripping the angled edge, looking out. She turned to him and smiled broadly. So this is what the Staircase Chamber had been like for her when she first saw it! Curious, Jareth capped his power for a moment and let the surroundings make him furiously dizzy. World beat music was being pumped through the hallway at a very respectable level - just enough to add ambiance. And the deliberate directions of the speakers and the resulting acoustics made it even more bewildering. The only thing that broke up that expanse of white walls and under-staircase were sparsely spaced shiny metal circles about six inches in diameter, each flashing a series of numbers in LED blue. It looked impossible. It was beautiful. Jareth reassumed his natural sense of balance and offered her his arm in a gentlemanly fashion.

"Shall we take a walk?"

Sarah forced herself to stand back up straight and took his arm, grateful for the support. She was fine on the landing as long as she didn't look up. Or down. Or anywhere except straight ahead. Most of the time. They passed through a videogame being projected on the floor - one had to pop bubbles of all things so that a work of art that was in the museum would show up on the projector screen, it worked like a jigsaw puzzle. One little boy was busily chasing the bubbles around laughing while his big sister watched him from one of the velvet-black beanbags along the wall, looking supremely bored. Jareth deliberately walked over one of the far ones and the picture was complete - it was a temporary installment from the Louis the XV collection on one of the lower levels, a painting of a little girl hanging onto the seat of a chair for her portrait.

Soon enough they were at the edge of the staircase that led to the next landing. Even though the stairs themselves were not twisted, everything around them was, including the right wall-guard, which bit into them at a strange angle to make the entire right side of the staircase end in up-sloping triangles, like water lapping away sand. Sarah almost fell just looking at it but steeled her nerves and her balance and carefully began to ascend, one hand holding his arm, the other gripping the railing for dear life. Jareth noticed her white knuckles and almost laughed; oh the trials of the human inner ear. They were half-way up and about to go around the corner - which wasn't straight, of course - when Sarah suddenly came to a halt.

"Oh man, I thought I could do it but I can't, I'm too dizzy."

"Yes you can. Close your eyes."

"But I'll fall!"

"No you won't," he smiled, clasping her hand to the crook of his arm with his free hand. Sarah took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"These convoluted planes are only an artistic illusion, Sarah. Feel where the gravity is truly pulling you, feel down," he quietly prompted her. Sarah felt herself regaining her sense of balance.

"Do you feel it now?"

"Yes."

"Then go ahead and open your eyes."

She did so and, to her surprise, she wasn't as dizzy as she had been. They quickly took the rest of the flight. There was a small, black modern-looking squared leather couch on the landing and Sarah fell into it. Jareth realized that they were looking at the interior of that spike of a spire he had seen on the outside of the building.

"Well, that was fun but I think I'll take the elevator down. You can walk the rest of it if you like but I'm through. I'll meet you outside of the gift shop."

He nodded; that had been a lot more than she had anticipated doing. Sarah went to get back up, hesitated, then did it with her eyes closed - the view even from here was just too much to handle. He looked concerned.

"Will you be all right?"

She waved him off. "I'm fine. Go on, explore," she teased, smiling.

He regarded her for a moment with play disapproval. "You speak as if I were a child," he whined.

"You're not helping your case," she laughed. "I'll see you downstairs."

Within moments the elevator had swallowed her up, leaving him alone on the landing. He looked out into the hall - he decided it was mostly the lighting because even the staircase looked odd from here. But still. He knew why she had brought him here. It reminded her of his home. _Home_. The longing hit him suddenly like a ton of bricks. He had only been stuck in the human world for about twenty years but it felt a lot longer than that because he didn't have the power to go back. Not even enough power to see if everything was still as he left it. As it should be. The Labyrinth was more full of twists and turns than a human brain; it had it's own strange beauty, both in the logic and the chaos because they were balanced. He didn't like thinking of it but he had disturbed that balance by losing to Sarah all those years ago. He had potentially damaged…

_No, this will work. This __will__ work and all will be well. Damn it, it __has__ to be! _he thought desperately. He strode quickly around the landing, taking the next flight almost without thinking about it. The Staircase Chamber used to be where he would go to think because he often paced and, well, there was plenty of room for that. His mind was racing. What all had he done? What was left untried? Did his need to get back supersede her safety? How far was he willing to go? _As far as necessary_, he thought darkly, although he knew it wasn't true anymore. He cared very much about Sarah and he didn't want to see her get hurt, much less hurt her himself. But he knew _he_ had to make sacrifices for this, how could she escape the situation without doing so herself? He looked out from the top landing into the sprawling mess of hallway and people below and silently swore right then and there that he would get back to his world. Or die trying.

* * *

Sarah felt like such an idiot: why had she taken him through that hall? It was painfully obvious that it would remind him of home, a subject that was currently an open wound. He had been moody all through dinner at the museum (which was no easy feat - dinner had been superb and the crème brule was fabulous) as well as on the ride back. She felt like kicking herself in the butt as they got out of her car and began walking toward her apartment building. Suddenly Sarah felt a light tap to her derriere from what felt like the toe of a _boot _and she whipped around to see Jareth two paces behind her with the supremely innocent expression of 'who, me?'

"Oh yeah, right, like I'm going to buy that. I don't know why I even bother feeling sorry for you, honestly."

"I thought I was doing you a favor; I wasn't sure if your leg would reach back that far," he bit back a smile but it came through his eyes anyway. She turned back around with an annoyed little smile, shaking her head. It wasn't just her - he _was_ worse than a teenager. Once she let him in he walked right up to a certain section of the wall by the window and put his hand to it, closing his eyes.

_That must be where the staff is,_ she thought, putting her purse and the books she'd checked out from the library on the coffee table. He was quickly pacing the floor, staring at it as his Underground clothing came back - it was the tight burgundy vested suit she'd seen him wear in the Staircase Room, an ensemble, she assumed (correctly), that he only wore when he meant business. The sleeves were much better fitted than his usually preferred attire, indicating that real, physical work was at hand. He was going to test something tonight but _what_ she could only begin to speculate. He looked concerned as the wheels in his head turned - this did not bode well. "What is it?" she finally asked. He didn't even bother to stop or look at her.

"I can't afford to put it off any longer. I must try it. Tonight."

"Try what?"

He stopped and gave her a dangerous, rakish grin. "Metamorphosis."

Sarah's jaw dropped. "Are you sure you have enough power?"

A pained expression overtook his features - she knew that the answer was no but he was so desperate that he was going to try anyway.

"Then here," she held out her left hand to him, bracing herself for the onslaught that would wrack her body when he took it.

He immediately realized what she intended to do and stiffly shook his head. "No. I will not compromise your person any further than absolutely necessary."

"But-"

He put up a hand to stop her. "I understand the risk involved and I undertake it willingly. I must keep trying, Sarah. With the external power source I might be able to pull it off. As of yet I am not aware of it's true capabilities since I've never been in need of it but I must find out now so I can better estimate how much left I must take from you. I intend for you to have enough left at the end of this ordeal to be able to do a little magic yourself - in all seriousness it's the least I can do. But there's only one way to find out." He wasn't about to tell her that incorrect transformation was one of the few things that could kill a Sidhe, the main cause for his worry. But it had come to this. There was no way around it. "If I can successfully perform tonight I should require only about two weeks more of your time."

"And if you can't? Answer me, J."

He looked away, strangely casual, but she noticed him nervously figiting with a glove.

"I knew it! You could get hurt really badly and then what would we do?! I sure as hell can't take you to the hospital! Here," she extended her left hand again, "just take the energy! I won't let you turn me down; it's for your own good!"

He sadly regarded her as he walked towards her. He took her outstretched hand in both of his and bowed over it, lightly kissing the back. He looked up at her.

"Do you have a writing implement that I could borrow?"

Sarah raggedly sighed, her eyes pleading him not to go through with this. He simply stood up straight, his face suddenly passive, unmovable, releasing her hand and turning, pacing away from her. Sarah walked over to the computer and opened her briefcase. After some searching she managed to dig out a cheap mechanical pencil that was all plastic and handed it to him. Turning it over in his hands, studying it, he walked over to the dining room table and proceeded to clear everything off of it onto the floor. Pushing back the chairs so they were braced against the wall, he stood at the foot of the table and placed the pencil before him - his back was to Sarah.

"Stand back - this could be dangerous," he warned her, waving her behind him. She didn't have to think twice before getting to the far side of the room; if Jareth thought something was dangerous it was almost assuredly deadly. But…

"Aren't you going to use the staff?"

"I am. The proximity alone should suffice for use, now be silent; I must concentrate for this."

Jareth closed his eyes. Sarah couldn't see much from where she was standing but she saw that he must've positioned his hands over the object. For a moment nothing happened but suddenly the air around him ripple like heat and before her eyes the pencil became a large, heavy book! Jareth was panting from the exertion but he was smiling when he turned to look at her and gestured for her to come over. Amazed, Sarah walked to the table and with his silent permission hefted the large tome, flipping through it. The script was a language she had never seen.

"I don't understand," she said at length. "You could do this with a flower, what's the difference?"

"I just transcribed that book from my complete life's memories," he stated matter-of-factly and Sarah's jaw dropped as she gaped at the size of it. "English is not my first language, I'm just comfortably fluent in it from speaking it for so long. This took far more power than the trick I showed you but you _are_ right; it works along the same principle. Now for something a bit more substantial."

He took leisurely steps toward the air mattress. She noticed that he was eying it.

"What's that one going to be, Cinderella's coach?" she asked incredulously.

He smirked at her train of thought. "No. While I am severely indebted to you for your generous hospitality, I fear that my back has not been as grateful as it should be."

"Oh, forgive me for not having a huge mattress fit for a king lying around in my teensy apartment," her voice dripped with sarcasm.

He simply ignored the remark and began to concentrate again, this time keeping his eyes open. Sarah realized what he was doing and took a couple of steps back as her air mattress and the throw she had given him got larger and larger, changing shape and color until it was a heavy four-poster bed with crimson damask drapes and a thick black velvet comforter. Considering his lavish taste, Sarah was surprised that it was only a full size bed.

"Well, your living room wouldn't exactly accommodate anything larger. This will suffice."

_Oh __brother__, _Sarah rolled her eyes as he sat on the edge, testing the softness, then stretched out in the middle, basking in the luxury in obvious pleasure and relief. After a few seconds he sat up Indian style and sighed.

"Now for me." He got back up off of the bed. "Now I realize that this is probably going to be a bit scary for you but I need very much for you to stay put just in case anything should go amiss with my transformation. This is no glamour, Sarah; I really am changing my physical properties. The only thing that does not change is my mind - I will be completely present mentally no matter what I look like, but I won't be able to speak in my totem form. When I am ready to morph back into my power form I will land on the center of the bed and hoot three times in quick succession as a signal. Ready?"

Sarah looked fearful, both for her and for him, and gulped but forced herself to nod yes. He smiled sadly at her concern and trepidation, walking toward her, pausing to stroke her cheek.

"It'll be alright, love," he said quietly before stepping back again. He took a deep breath and stretched his arms high in a 'V', looking up intensely. _Please let this work_, he silently prayed to whoever might be listening as his limbs began to shrink and shift. His arms grew flight feathers and his hands disappeared altogether as his clothing began to melt away into scarves of the same color. He seemed to be collapsing into himself and Sarah almost couldn't bear to watch as his face took on the owl's features; it was horrible. Within seconds it was over, however, and a barn owl with mismatched eyes flew out from beneath the scarves, absorbing them back into it's wings before it circled the room once and landed on the footboard of the bed. It was eerie seeing him like that but she reminded herself that it was still him. Would he be able to understand her?

"Are you okay? Did it work?"

The owl bobbed its head and cocked it completely sideways, blinking its dark, round eyes. Sarah laughed in surprise - he was so silly! In spite of his small body his wingspan was comparatively huge and as if to drive the point home, the owl spread his wings wide and hooted, showing off his impressive plumage. Sarah had an idea - he still didn't look that heavy, he was mostly fluff.

"Would you be able to sit on my arm?"

The owl bobbed again and flew right at her! Sarah had to fight the instinct to protect her face or move (the sight of a wild bird flying swiftly toward her was one she was not used to) but she held her ground and her right arm out in front of her for a perch. He managed to land and inclined his head slightly in greeting for a moment. Sarah carefully walked over to the couch with him on her arm and sat down. It was so surreal. She could tell that he was trying to be careful not to puncture her arm with his talons; they were razor sharp but his grip was extremely light. Jareth looked about, testing his new range of motion and his adjusted panoramic depth perception: so far, everything was as it should be. He looked back at her and made a small, quiet noise in his throat. His eyes seemed even more penetrating than usual in a different shape, it was like he was looking right through her. His feathers looked so soft.

_I wonder…_ Sarah soon gave into the temptation to stroke his head, seeing if he would allow it.

It was a common enough human instinct to want to touch an animal but Jareth had not anticipated that Sarah would want to pet him in his totem form and the sensation of her hand gently caressing his feathers was marvelous. He closed his eyes, hooting softly, and turned his face to nuzzle the cup of her hand, giving it a feather-light nibble as she drew it away down his back.

_Well, he certainly likes __this_, she thought as she continued to pet him, smiling. The reality of the situation seemed strange and distant; it felt oddly natural. _Happy, soft little owl, he's so cute_, she thought absently as she ran her fingers over his downy front.

Out of the blue it suddenly dawned on her that she had absolutely no idea what this was like for him and she was immediately petrified that he might be getting the wrong idea. Without any warning he flew back over to the bed he had just created, startling her. He could obviously still read her mind and didn't want to make her uncomfortable. He had a quizzical little expression on his face and almost seemed to shrug his shoulders before turning and walking awkwardly to the center of the bed - Sarah noticed that he was pigeon-toed! He turned to face her and hooted three times in quick succession as he said he would. He started getting larger and larger and his legs reappeared in white pants as he had been in their final confrontation and his torso was starting to take a more human shape, his eyes were no longer round, when suddenly there was a gust of wind from out of nowhere so strong that if Sarah had been standing it would've knocked her right off her feet. It still shoved her back into the couch - hard - and knocked a few figurines from the bookshelf to the floor, effectively destroying them.

She stared at him with open horror: the transformation had stopped dead midway! His owl's face remained only it was huge, proportional to his body. His wings were now the size of human arms and even had joints to correspond but he had no hands and his torso was still covered in feathers. The open panic in his eyes was human enough and he called out loudly in shock - quickly covering his beak with his wings: he still had the owl's vocal chords! He couldn't speak! Sarah nearly screamed herself at the sight of him but fought down the shock as she shakily got up and made her way slowly over to the bed. He looked like a monster that should've been in Greek mythology. She managed to find her own voice, even though it still broke on her.

"Are you hurt?"

It was a good question. Still a bit dazed, Jareth assessed his body inside and out. His current condition was terrifying and he could well understand her fear but everything still seemed to be in working order for the moment. He firmly shook his head no.

"Oh thank God," she sobbed, almost collapsing onto the bed as she went to sit down beside him. "No, no time to be emotional, time to think," she said aloud. "Any ideas?"

He automatically went to speak but all that came out was a hoot. He dejectedly looked away. Sarah sighed and bravely put a hand on his shoulder. His feathers were larger now but every bit as delicate.

"We'll get you back to normal, I promise."

Her hand felt so good right there…it was then that the idea hit him. It was going to be so hard to communicate with her but he knew he had to try! He hooted softly to get her attention and gestured pointedly to indicate _her_ with the ends of both wings.

_I __guess__ those are his fingers, god this is __sick__. _"I?"

He shook his head yes enthusiastically. It suddenly dawned on her and she gasped.

"You have an idea!"

He nodded again.

She could barely contain her excitement and relief and launched forward, hugging him. He made an odd noise in his throat and it was then that she realized that all of his bones were still hollow!

"Oh, I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?" she quickly released him.

He shook his head no and regarded her with a playfully accusing look.

_How you manage to do that with only __eyes__…_ "Okay, _I_?"

He gestured down once.

"I go downstairs?"

He shook his head no as his wings waved 'no way' and he repeated the gesture, this time right up to the covers.

"I sit here?"

He nodded.

She sat beside him, feeling a bit jittery. "Okay, then what?"

He made a very big gesture of turning his 'arms' 'palm-side' up so she would mimic him.

"…oh, like this?"

He nodded and made a placatory, reassuring gesture with both wings that looked like 'stay still.' She felt the bed shift as he knelt right behind her.

"Okay, Jareth, what are you doing?" she asked a little nervously.

Before she could totally process what was going on, she saw his right wing come up until it was hovering right over her exposed forearm. He reached down and began to lightly, deliberately, _slowly_ stroke the sensitive flesh of her inner arm with the very tips of his flight feathers, tracing big, lazy ovals and figure-eights from her wrist almost to her elbow and back, over and over. His touch was nothing short of electric; she had never felt anything like it in her entire life. Just that small touch alone was making her heart race and she could feel herself flushing. All of her attention was involuntarily focused in on it, every sense heightened. It was blissful torture as Sarah felt heat sweep through her body and she fought to remain upright. She was suddenly acutely aware of his body heat right behind her and all she wanted to do was to lean into the sorcerer who was invoking this deep desire within her. As he saw her surrendering to the sensation he began on the other arm with his left wing, dragging the right wingtip up higher, slowly brushing past the sensitive skin beside her elbow up the remainder of her arm. He seemed to know _just_ the right amount of pressure to exert. Sarah raggedly inhaled as he continued higher; it was like her shirt sleeve wasn't even there. He leaned in close to her ear and hooted soft and deep in his register, sending her head _reeling_. He was openly and unabashedly turning her on!

_There __has__ to be some PETA law against this, _she suddenly thought, _probably a good 20 years in jail awaiting the maniac that gets seduced by a __barn owl__. _That didn't stop her body from reacting to it, though. Of all the days to braid her hair back. She closed her eyes as sensation washed over her, around her, _through_ her as he moved in closer, dragging his feathers teasingly about her collarbone. She sighed heavily, her neck going limp, responding by following his touch as if it were magnetic as he brushed up the right side of her neck, following the very edge of the curve of her ear before dipping down and around her shoulder again. She unconsciously reached back to him and to her surprise his body felt a great deal more solid, just a light covering of down over thick muscle and bone. She unashamedly ran her fingers through his light coat and she heard him softly groan in response. A _human _sound!

_Well, we certainly haven't tried __this__ before_, she reflected with a guilty inner smile. _At least it's __working__. _She allowed him to continue touching her arms and neck, hopelessly lost in sweet aching until she felt his wingtips change to fingertips and even _then_ she almost didn't want to stop him. He appeared to have superhuman self-control, never getting carried away, never speeding up. She opened her eyes and saw that his hands were indeed his hands once again and turned to look at him - he was back to normal, dressed in white. His expression was at once hypnotically open and knowing as he took in the look in her eyes, his left hand continuing on its course caressing her beneath her chin past the edge of her throat and back again with the whole side of his relaxed index finger. Her breath automatically quickened as her heart did a flutter and her lips parted involuntarily.

_It would be so __easy__ to capture her sweet, full mouth, _he mused, _she is already __alive__ with desire…no, I can't take advantage of her. Not like __this__. _"Thank you," he whispered.

Sarah finally remembered herself and brushed his hand aside, suddenly flustered.

"Okay, that's enough, you're back to normal now," she caught her breath, looking away, trying to compose herself.

"Not quite," he sighed looking up - Sarah looked back in time to see him pluck a large, downy feather from his bangs, wincing, then bringing it down to eye level, idly twirling the end between his fingers. It was nearly three inches long and about two thick. He quirked a lip smile and offered it to her. "For protection. You just saved my life back there. I might someday repay my debt."

Even sarcastic, cocky, and self-assured, Sarah was certain glad to have him back in one piece. She took it, running it between two fingers, feeling the softness. She suddenly thought of how much he had been willing to risk - his life in fact - rather than cause her any more pain and she met his eyes. Jareth couldn't read her emotions; they were too jumbled and for once he felt it not his place. Sadness, anger, relief, wonder, longing? On impulse she hugged him, taking him completely by surprise. Her embrace had been as fast as it had been unexpected and after the initial shock wore off he tentatively returned it.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," Sarah scolded him, but it wasn't anger that prompted her words. That much he knew. At some level, she cared about him. Her actually being actively concerned for his well-being was more than Jareth had almost come to hope for. At length she released him and got up. He still sat there, watching her. "Are you going to be all right? Do you need anything else?"

"I shall be fine, but I must rest. I know it's early yet but I'm turning in."

Sarah nodded; he needed to regain his strength and learn to be careful in spending it. "Would it bother you if some lights were still on? I'll try to be quiet."

"No - that's what these are for," he said, leaning back to pull a tasseled cord: with a flourish, the drapes closed. Sarah smiled wryly, shaking her head; at least one of them would be sleeping well tonight. She began to walk away.

"Goodnight, Jareth."

"Goodnight - Sarah, wait! I almost forgot something," he said, drawing one panel partially aside near the headboard. "Come here."

Sarah walked over, uneasy. "What is it?"

"Hold still for a moment."

He got on his knees so they were eye level, placing his fingertips on her temples. Sarah felt a light tingling sensation for a moment and then he pulled away.

"What did you just do? Shouldn't you be careful not to overexert yourself?"

"You like remembering difficult things for posterity's sake and character and I can respect that, but I won't have you having nightmares about what's happened here tonight. You will never dream of this," he said serenely. Sarah's lips parted in surprise. He smiled. "Goodnight, love." And with that he closed the curtain.

Sarah just stood there in shock for a moment. It was going to be a very long night.


	10. Patience and Practice

Chapter 10 - Patience and Practice, Practice and Patience.

Teaching Sarah to dance was slower going than Jareth had anticipated. She kept wanting to lead of all things! It was endearing, trying, and so completely her that were it not for the goal at stake, it probably wouldn't have bothered him so much. The website he had gotten most of his beginning information from had suggested simply walking around the room with one's partner in the slightly off-center waltz stance to get used to walking between each other's legs - and not on each other's feet. The partners Jareth was accustomed to had been trained to dance as soon as they could walk and it was so second-nature that he had never had to worry about these little things before. For the new dances, he would have to lead her from the shoulder instead of the waist and while the physical contact had been initially exciting at first, it was beginning to wear on him now: she simply had to learn to follow! She was so stubborn, so afraid to relinquish the position of power. He could practically ooze charm and attention and she would do it for about two seconds and that was _it_. He couldn't bespell her - it would ruin the whole exercise. Having enough of walking for one session he stepped out of position abruptly and got a drink of water. Surprised - but not entirely, she followed suit. He set down his water glass on the end table and sighed.

"You've never done this type of dancing in your life, have you?"

"Gee, is it really that obvious, wow," she countered sarcastically.

"But surely you must dance. Dance is a part of the human mechanism."

"It's nothing I'd do in public," she gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I can do a sort of two-step if I have to but that's it."

He shook his head, both from disbelief and not entirely believing her; she had to let loose sometime, even if it was just in the privacy of her own room. Once she learned the steps, maybe she'd gradually be able to open up more publicly, it was a matter of coaxing her out of her protective shell. For the time being, it was demonstration time again.

"After a cursory glance at these dances I think we should start with the Rumba - it looks like the easiest. There is, however, one little thing that you must learn to do before learning the steps or it will come together very awkwardly and that's 'Cuban movement'. Why it is called Cuban movement I haven't the vaguest idea; it isn't cube-like in the least. Perhaps it's named after someone." This was received with uproarious laughter. "What is it now?" he asked dryly.

"It's a country - Cuba!"

"Nevermind. So," he seamlessly continued, not about to let her see him embarrassed over his lack of certain knowledge, "what it is is a swaying motion of sorts that involves most of the body. When you step together you don't just step - the knee bends inward slightly and the hip dips with it, stretching the ribcage, like so," and he proceeded to do it fluidly back and forth, alternating feet. It was only a basic dance step but it was far more sensual than Sarah was prepared to deal with, especially in what he was wearing. She flushed, averting her eyes.

"Jareth…"

"What? This is how it is done. It's simple enough. There's nothing to be embarrassed about, try it."

"It's just that…I can't!"

_Ah, so I __wasn't__ dreaming, you __are__ attracted to me naturally…_ "Am I so difficult to look at?"

"Yes. No. I-" she made an incoherent sound of frustration and threw her arms up in the air, pacing away. He had anticipated this being hard but he hadn't been entirely ready to handle this.

_Maybe…_Walking back over to the computer terminal, he called back up the website tutorial with the free video clip. "Then practice by yourself. I shall return in half an hour."

She looked up, surprised. "Where are you going?"

"To get something that will hopefully help."

_Okay…_ "Take the map from the car so you don't get lost."

"Done," he smiled.

She finally turned to see him: it was already in his hand and he was out the door. She let out a huge sigh of relief - there was no way she was going to live through this. Dragging her hands over her face she walked back to the monitor and hit the play button on the screen. Jareth was right - it was painfully easy once you got the feel for it. It just wasn't easy looking at him. After a while Sarah felt like she could do it in her sleep and started perusing the rest of the clips. The rumba was pretty straightforward: just stepping out to the sides and back and the couple sort of traveled in a haphazard manner. Not a bad starter, Cuban motion aside. She was watching the Cha-Cha when Jareth came back in with a bag of purchases.

"Hey, what did you get?"

"You have trouble watching me because you know me, do you not?" Sarah didn't feel obligated to answer that; it was a leading question and she was pretty sure he already knew the answer. "What if you didn't know me? Or failing that, at least couldn't see my face?" And with that he pulled out a very cheap-looking Mardi Gras mask - just a bit of shiny gold plastic on a string.

Sarah suddenly felt cold. "Jareth…"

His expression was one of immediate sympathy but she had to get over this, too. Two birds with one stone was the human phrase.

"It's only in play, Sarah," he said quietly. "I got both of us a few. Want to see?" he said with an inviting half-smile.

Sarah took a deep breath and walked over to the couch. He joined her and set the bag down between them. Inside was another cheap Mardi Gras mask - a green one - two dominoes (one white, one black), a Phantom of the Opera half-mask, and a more detailed mask of purple velvet with gold trim and three small purple plumes in the center. A veil of black lace hung down from the lower edge of the mask to conceal the rest of the face without obstructing the nose or mouth. It was attached with black ribbons. She ran her fingers over the velvet.

"A mask doesn't do much if you can still read my mind."

"I won't when we wear these. I promise."

She looked at him. He simply nodded with a little smile. He was giving her an out: the opportunity to hide her emotions from him, if only temporarily. It was such a caring gesture she could've cried. He quickly moved to divert her attention, picking up the white half-mask.

"This one was labeled Phantom of the Opera. Do you know why? I didn't think it wise to ask the staff in case it was common knowledge."

"It's the name of one of the most popular Broadway musicals ever, it's based on a book by the same name. Oh, a musical is a kind of play," she interrupted herself. "A young girl opera singer is coached by this mysterious figure and he falls in love with her and he's a nutcase and abducts her and her true love has to go save her from the clutches of the twisted maniac. Weird thing is the Phantom, I think his name was…Erik? Anyway - huge cult following for this character, a lot of women apparently feel sorry for him. Crazy romantic genius, you get the picture."

Jareth looked hesitant. "…but he abducted her."

"Oh, he's an active murderer."

"I'm beginning to see a pattern here," he said a bit wryly. "I am deeply concerned for the state of your society, Sarah."

"That makes two of us," she laughed.

"…but would it bother you if I wore it?" She blinked.

"I don't know. Hang on a minute," and she picked up the purple velvet one and tied it onto her face. "Okay."

He smiled at her choice of action and held the half-mask up to his face.

"…maybe later."

"Silly it is, then!" he exclaimed, grabbing the gold plastic one and slipping the elastic over his head. It was almost a little small for his face but it just fit. In covering his face, however, he had only acted to accentuate his eyes and Sarah found herself blushing again to be receiving that much of his attention. She almost turned away - then remembered that he couldn't see it and retained eye contact. "Shall we try again?" Sarah got up, only to quickly sit back down.

"Jareth, I don't know if this is going to work. Isn't there something else you haven't tried yet? Anything at all?"

"Anything else would put you at risk for physical harm! I deliberately saved this for later once you had gotten to know me a bit better and hopefully could trust me a little bit more."

"I know, I _know_, it's just…does it have to be so…"

"Fun?" he teased her.

"No."

"Intriguing?"

"No!" she laughed.

"I don't have two left feet, dear."

"No, but you _do_ have a -" Sarah suddenly clamped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide in shock and surprise at what she'd almost let slip. Jareth actually looked down at himself and Sarah modestly averted her gaze.

"Perhaps a change of attire is what should be in order," he said quietly. His normal shirt and the offending breeches disappeared and were replaced with modern black slacks and a flamboyantly shiny, purple dress shirt that was open almost halfway down his smooth, ivory chest, his pendant framed by it. His hair was pulled back tightly in the low ponytail. "Is this better?" he asked her gently. Thoroughly embarrassed, Sarah nodded but she was trying to suppress a laugh about the shirt - he could tell by the way she was leaning forward.

"What?"

"You and your thing for glitz."

"But this is what they wear on 'Dancing with the Stars'!"

"I'm not saying anything," she shook her head, smiling. But she was getting up.

_You just __did_, he thought, inclining his head at her decision.

"Okay, now that mask looks ridiculous with what you have on. Try one of the dominoes."

Amused at how picky she was suddenly being, he complied with a quirk smile. To her surprise it was the white one.

"The lady traditionally wears the black."

"…do I have to right now?"

"No." He lead her back to the center of the room with a teasingly congenial little smile. Reassuming dance position, he began to count out the steps as mechanically as possible, trying to keep his eyes as unmoved as stone. Sarah simply wasn't ready for the sensuality of the dance and he reasoned that her body would simply take over when she was. "Out right…left…together, together, out left…right…together, together, and again…good…are we remembering our Cuban?…Relax your shoulders."

"Have you ever taught like this before?"

"No. How am I doing?"

"You sound like a professional."

"In that case I'm either a quick study or this is the simplest profession in the world," he smiled.

_He has a real talent for this_, Sarah thought. _How could I have thought that he couldn't do anything useful here?_ She wasn't about to admit it but she was almost beginning to secretly enjoy herself. God, Jareth was a headache sometimes but she hadn't been this close to a man in years and the fact of it was both extremely daunting and electrifying. Was that the point? She suddenly thought. Was attraction a way someone had power over you? The thought was as stunning as it was uneasy and Sarah had to swallow a fair amount of trepidation. _Whatever he's up to, at least he can't __lie__ to me; I can grill him if I have to_, she reassured herself as he began to travel with her. Music slowly came out of nowhere and filled the room. He had been guarded before but it was slipping - he was opening smiling now and it was making her giddy; she could feel her heart treacherously going just a little bit faster. There was no secrecy here - he was genuinely enjoying himself. And her. Now that part was weird. It was almost too much too fast. Jareth sensed her unease and quickly stopped the music and the dance to her surprise, taking off his mask and carelessly tossing it aside. There was both knowledge and understanding in his eyes, she didn't have to say one word.

"Jareth?"

He caught her in a sudden bear-hug and she gasped in surprise.

"Thank you for putting up with me," he whispered in her ear before releasing her, walking away. Dumbfounded, Sarah untied her mask and took it off, looking from it to him and back again, pondering.

* * *

Two hours later, after a lot of arguing and a little cajoling, Sarah finally managed to convince Jareth that Denver was not Rio de Janeiro; there was no point to learning a bunch of difficult dances when they wouldn't be able to find a single venue in the entire city that _had_ them. They were sticking to the 'nightclub set': the cha-cha and the tango. Jareth hadn't been sure if she'd been comfortable enough to continue or if they should call it a day but Sarah insisted that she was fine when he knew darn well from her body language that she wasn't, that she was forcing herself to do this for his sake. Nevertheless, she donned her mask again and strode stiffly to the center of the room again, waiting for him. She deserved far more respect for what she was doing than his circumstances would allow, so he decided to play along for the time being - at least until the façade cracked: it was a possibility he did not savor but if she was going to try, he should, too. Putting back on the plastic mask as if it were the most dignified thing in the world to do, he paced over to her, beginning his lecture.

"The Cha-cha has a few more steps than the rumba but it is also far more versatile in that it can be danced in traditional position or by yourself simply facing your partner. In the latter case, the arms are bent in and held in a semi-relaxed stance, like so," and he demonstrated, doing a few quick, close dance steps. "Shall we try?"

"Could we do it open first?"

"Of course," he smoothly accommodated her; this was precisely why he had chosen this one next. "So your steps are out right, left front, together, and two quick traveling steps to the left, the 'cha-cha' part. The other side: out left, back right, together, and the traveling steps in the opposite direction. Try it again just a little bit faster…good…you still need the Cuban…that's right…don't overstate it so much…better. Once this is up to tempo you won't have a lot of time for large movement so try to keep everything compact. Ready?"

She nodded. Once again music filtered in from out of nowhere. His steps mirror to hers, he was dancing symmetrically just across from her. He was trying to remain serious but a smile was creeping into the corner of his mouth. He had been right - the dance moved at a pretty good clip and she felt the tug of the come-hither on her ankles on more than one occasion. She finally tripped up on the timing and he stopped the music.

"Would you like to try it together now?"

Her eyes darted to the floor and she nodded. Taking the lead, he slowly resumed with her, gradually bringing her up to tempo. A light smile graced his features as the music began to play again - she wasn't fighting him anymore. It had been acutely embarrassing and even a bit degrading for Sarah to have to admit that it was easier to dance if he led. His triumphant little smile said it all: he was winning. Part of her violently rebelled against what he was actively trying to do, it felt so wrong trying to break her like this, so horribly wrong. But there was the temptation to relax, to simply give in to the charms and attentions of the Goblin King. She was beginning to feel sickened by the idea - that she was snatching defeat from the jaws of victory by being submissive, she had never really thought of it that way before - and suddenly stopped, walking out of his grasp. He silently nodded, looking resignedly at the floor, stopping the music.

"No more today, then," he said quietly.

She unexpectedly turned on him. "No! No more!" she exclaimed, ripping off the mask. "I know you're trying to get home but I am a human being, not some brainless little pawn, and I don't appreciate the fact that you're trying to _break_ me! Do whatever you need to do, just… just leave me out of it, okay? I'm done with this, I can't take it anymore," she shook her head, retreating to her room, shutting the door.

_Bloody __brilliant_, he silently berated himself, taking off his mask and dejectedly throwing it on the coffee table before sitting down in the recliner. He had obviously pushed her way too far and now she was shutting him out. He thought he hadn't been hurting her by compromising her a bit but apparently he had underestimated her humanness yet again. Will had to be part of her survival instinct and it would be completely impossible to separate her from even a smidgen of it. No, she was right, she had given her all and he just kept taking when there was nothing left to give. She was right to be angry with him. But there was nothing for it now. He would simply let her be and see what he could wrench out of the staff - perhaps it would be enough, he had never pushed its limits before but now seemed the time to try. Let her alone, let her heal. Perhaps he would, too.


	11. Young at Heart

Chapt. 11 - Young at Heart

Jareth had all but given up on working with Sarah for the moment to achieve his ends and had been experimenting with the staff instead. While the object almost quadrupled his current powers it took power simply to useit. He had to exercise a healthy amount of caution and reserve when drawing on it because the process exhausted him completely with alarming speed. Sarah was beginning to worry about him; he was asleep more and more often when she came home, not waking until late evening. He would eat a morsel or two of whatever dinner was and then stagger back to bed. Even his pale skin had begun to look ashen. He was using too much of himself too quickly and he wasn't eating enough - that much was obvious. If he was causing himself any real damage where Sarah couldn't see there was no way of knowing - he point blank refused to speak on the subject.

_Probably because he can't lie to me_. She knew that he was doing what he thought was best but what would it all be for if he didn't make it? Coming through the front door, Sarah was terrified to find him sprawled out facedown on the floor in her living room. "_**Jareth!**_" She dropped everything and rushed to his side. He didn't seem to be injured and there was a pulse in his neck but it was very weak. _Oh shit, don't __die__ on me!_ She carefully rolled him over. His skin was grey, almost bluish and it looked like he had been perspiring if his bangs were any indicator. He was cool to the touch. _Oh, this is __not__ good!_ "Jareth…Jareth, wake up!" she said nervously, furiously trying to rub some of the warmth back into his arms. She noticed his eyelids shift and then he cracked them open slowly. He sounded as weak as he looked.

"…Sarah?"

"Don't speak. Save your strength, come on." She managed to haul him into a sitting position against the couch (he had moved the coffee table nearly into the hallway beforehand) and grabbed the comforter off of his bed, wrapping it around him. Suddenly feeling how cold he really was he drew his knees in, shivering. "What the hell do you think you're doing?! You need to cut this shit out _right now__!_"

Jareth may have been cold but his eyes were _blazing_.

"You presume much and understand little," he bit out. "I am willing to sacrifice my body for the higher magics if need be. You would do well to remember that I am a king."

Sarah was indignant. "You can play high-and-mighty all you want but you are no sovereign of mine, Jareth, and you're not invincible. You would do well to remember that." She went into the kitchen and put the tea kettle on. "I mean, look at yourself! Would it kill you to admit that you need a break? I don't know what you're doing but I see you getting weaker instead of stronger. Even athletes need time to recuperate. Take tomorrow off, please, just do it for yourself. I came in here and I was scared to death that you were dead!"

Jareth seriously considered what she'd been saying. Once he would have been able to abuse his body like this seemingly indefinitely without feeling anything adverse. His age was finally beginning to catch up to him. Presently he didn't even possess the strength to warm himself.

_This__ is certainly a new low_, he thought tersely. When Sarah came back in with the tea he was looking a little sheepish. He opened one side of the blanket, his arm muscles screaming out in exhaustion at the movement. "Sarah…would you mind terribly if…" and then she saw that in spite of the huge, velvet comforter he was still shaking like a leaf. She nodded, immediately understanding what he was too embarrassed to ask for and snuggled into the comforter with him, setting the mugs on the floor beside her.

"Hello, trouble," she teased him.

"Hello," he finally smiled back.

* * *

Much to Jareth's bemusement, Sarah ordered an ungodly amount of Chinese takeout that night and forced him to consume no less than three bowls of egg drop soup when he showed little appetite for anything else. They ate on the floor in the living room while watching a slew of game shows. Jareth seemed to be enjoying them and feeling at least a little better. At least his body warmth had returned. On Sarah's insistence he hadn't moved an inch, though, and she had stayed by his side - except to get the door when the food arrived.

"You imbecile! Take the deal!" he shouted at a woman named Amanda on the current show.

"Figures you'd side with the banker," Sarah said as she grabbed another wonton.

"Well, I think that that amount of money is more than enough to be offered for simply calling out a few numbers."

"It's only the first offer. If she keeps guessing cases with small numbers in them her prize will keep going up in value, but really her chances of actually winning the game are next to none."

"So this pits the player's own greed against them," Jareth smirked, devilishly amused. "What a wicked form of entertainment."

"Hey, it's just a stylized version of the American Dream."

"What? Getting everything for doing nothing? Life handed to you on a silver platter?"

"You got it," she took a sip of tea.

He looked aghast. "You mean you work at least six days a week if not _seven_, pouring your heart, mind and soul into projects to better humanity when you could be on one of these 'game shows,' jumping up and down screaming like a banshee and walk away with more money in one night than you see in an entire year?"

"Yep."

"But that's-"

"Not fair?"

"Wrong!"

Sarah nodded. "Well, yeah, but who's going to change it? It's all a matter of what you're willing to do. I could make more money than I do now just selling my body on East Colfax but I'm sure as hell not going to do that."

_What a bizarre society_, Jareth thought disgustedly. "At least where I am from, good work is rewarded."

"That must be nice."

"No really, I mean it!"

"Oh, it's okay, I believe you," she smiled. "A lot of times our work is its own reward. If I didn't care about helping other people and the environment I would've quit a long time ago. Been somebody's secretary, I guess, copying letters and other stupid stuff like that."

"You would've considered becoming a scribe?"

Sarah gave a laugh. "I had never really thought of it quite that way," she said amusedly.

"I'm being antiquated again, aren't I?"

Sarah nodded with a little smile.

"Then I shall have to work on updating myself in your absence."

"Well, don't do it too much. Modern slang coming from you would be laughably weird."

"Ancient and classic it is, then," he teasingly rebuffed. "And speakingof ancient…" He finally got up and stretched - before lying down on the couch. Sarah was right that it wasn't as comfortable as it looked but oh well; he wasn't ready to relinquish his hostess just yet.

"J, if you're tired you need to go to bed. I don't have to watch this."

"Nonsense. Did it ever occur to you that I am enjoying your company? No, don't get up." She had moved to clean up the mess of food cartons that were still all over the floor, many were still nearly full (she had been anticipating one hungry fae and if mythology was anything to go by, the appetites of the truly hungry could eat one out of house and home). Suddenly it all vanished. She shot a glance back at him. His arms were folded behind his head. "It's all in the refrigerator." She thought she saw him wince.

"No more magic tonight for you, mister, you're exhausted, even I can see it. You're going straight to bed."

His face suddenly assumed a look of bright-eyed mischief.

"Am I now?"

The look was a dare and Sarah registered it immediately. He wouldn't go voluntarily; she would have to physically drag him. She sighed. "Why is nothing ever easy with you?"

"I often wonder that exact same thing about you," he smirked.

_Oh, that __does__ it._ On impulse she grabbed one of his arms and gave it a hard tug - and almost fell forward: it was like trying to move solid granite! He chuckled.

"Jareth…"

"No more magic, I promise to relax," he finally placated her. "Just stay with me," he added quietly. She gave him a sideways glance and sat back down, sitting up perfectly straight. It had not gone unnoticed that if she leaned back again as she had been that her head would be leaning directly against his thigh. What was he up to? He suddenly laughed quietly, shaking his head. "Oh, Sarah," he chided her fondly, "still so suspicious. I assure you there's nothing up my sleeve currently except a deck of minor arcana Tarot cards and a couple extra scarves."

Sarah genuinely laughed, loosening up a bit. Jareth knew by now that it was always a matter of getting her comfortable - once Sarah was comfortable with him she always warmed right up. Sneaky? Yes. But it was for The Cause. Or was it for another reason entirely? He quickly banished the idea. Getting too attached to her was a complication he logistically could not afford. And yet some suicidal tendency in his heart wanted him to give it a try anyway, to flaunt fate and see if lightning would strike him down. Very tentatively, Sarah leaned back against the couch. And him. Nothing happened; he barely even seemed to notice.

_Like boiling the frog,_ she thought sardonically. _If he starts doing anything untoward I'm leaving._

_Go on, love, reassure yourself, get comfortable. I intend to make you __very__ happy shortly, _he thought, watching, waiting. And nothing happened. Deal or No Deal continued until 8:00 and the aforementioned woman walked away with only $5,000 when she could've had $165,800. The next contestant was an extremely animated middle-aged man who loved pro-wrestling and making suggestive comments at the models. Woo. When a weekly crime drama came on next, Sarah switched over to the public broadcasting station - it was an outdoor concert filmed at night in Germany featuring André Rieu and his godlike persona (not to mention his virtuoso talent on the violin.)

"Don't get me wrong, this guy's got talent, but he's too full of himself," Sarah started to editorialize. "I've seen him before. What is it with these professional musicians, especially classical ones? They get good at something and all-of-a-sudden it goes right to their-"

It was then that Jareth's fingernails made gentle but forceful contact with her scalp, fanning slowly out then slowly back in, over and over, releasing a huge dose of endorphins directly into her bloodstream. All conscious thought immediately ceased and she was helplessly reveling in the sensation. She was melting it felt so wonderful; she knew she was smiling like an idiot. At last she reached her limit and began to feel a bit groggy as he stopped the motion and began idly caressing her hair.

_Nothing up my sleeve my __ass_, she thought, suddenly reflecting on how easily she had complied with his wishes just now. Tearing down personal guards like this was only supposed to happen at New Age retreats like Esalen in California. It wasn't supposed to happen in real life. And his hand was still stroking her hair. It was almost uncomfortably like the way someone would stroke a dog. Good little human. She turned to look at him and found him already watching her.

"Thank you," he whispered. There was sincere gratitude in his expression, his eyes. A small, sad little smile. Why was he sad? There was an awkward moment of silence - he seemed to be on the brink of asking her something when he suddenly broke eye contact, discreetly swallowing, gaze fixed on the television. She turned away again. Then changed her mind.

"Jareth?"

"Yes?"

"What were you thinking about just now?"

He met her eyes warmly for a moment before staring off into space.

"Something foolish," he sighed.

Sarah almost let it drop but found that she couldn't; she had to know.

"Like what?" she pried.

He looked down again, surprised by her nerve, a smirking half-smile gracing his face.

"When one has been a diplomat and courtier as long as I have, one learns to choose one's words carefully."

His cryptic answer only left her more curious but it was obvious that she wasn't going to get anything more out of him tonight. She resignedly turned back to the television. There was a reason he wasn't telling. There was a reason that he, the fearless king of the goblins, had stopped cold in his tracks mere moments before saying something to her. A reason. Like the reason she hadn't made any effort to dissuade his hand. As much as both of them wanted to deny it, there was a slowly growing attraction between them.

_Like __cancer__,_ Sarah thought. It was obvious enough when they had danced: how possessively he held her, the way his eyes never left her. The way those eyes sparked thrills of dark excitement within her, the way his voice could turn her knees to _water_ if he spoke in a certain tone; she was lost when she was in his arms. If it weren't for extenuating circumstances…it was always 'if.' If didn't count. She could've screamed in frustration. But he was still there, silently caressing her hair, an odd comfort in an even stranger situation. The current program was putting her to sleep. She went to turn it off and to her surprise his hand fell limply away. She quickly turned to him - and relaxed: he had fallen asleep. There was just a hint of a smile on his lips. Sarah wasn't used to seeing him so vulnerable, it was a bit awkward.

_And warming, watch out. _Very carefully she lifted his right arm and positioned it over his chest, then draped the comforter over him. It was fairly warm in the room but she wasn't sure if he still might need it. She walked around and turned out all the lights, turning on the one in the bathroom - then curiosity got the better of her. Ever since Jareth had started magicking that bed together every night she had wondered what it was really like. But she certainly wasn't going to show any interest while he was there - and he was always there. But now he was safely unconscious, what was the harm? Oh hell, there was plenty of harm but she didn't know if she'd get another chance to really try it out. Careful not to disturb the fine sheets, Sarah sat down. Then lay down…..

….and woke up to Jareth staring right in her face! She screamed in terror before realizing who it was.

"Good morning," he purred drolly, sitting back on his heels.

"What in the world do you think you're…" and it was then that she noticed that the sheets beneath her were satin. _Ooops… _

Jareth watched her with open amusement as she practically leaped off of the bed as if it were on fire and tried in vain to straighten herself - she was still dressed in her work clothes from the night before.

"Perhaps we'll let it slide just this once seeing that it was an accident." He tiredly closed his eyes for a moment. "At any rate you'll be pleased to know that you won't be late for work."

"Why, what time is it?" she yawned.

"5:34. Your alarm woke me up - you usually shut if off within seconds of its sounding but it was left buzzing unabated this morning. And when I got up to see why you hadn't turned it off…well….I suddenly realized _why_." He looked at Sarah with a quietly predatory smile as she started to inch away, turning several shades of red.

"…I was curious," she confessed.

"Clearly. You know, you could've just asked; this is your domain, as you are so fond of reminding me."

"It seemed…I don't know…"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Anyway, you don't have to worry about finding me there again."

_There's a pity_, he thought.

She turned around. "Did you just say what I think you just said?"

"I didn't say anything," he answered in total honesty, looking every bit as surprised as she was. He would have to exercise more caution around her from here on out; his increasing power increased the risk of him projecting his own thoughts. At a higher level such things just didn't happen but he was becoming more and more aware of the instability of the gaining state. Things simply didn't work the same. It was like having the magical disruption experienced during the nymph stage all over again: improved performance but with less accuracy. Sarah looked like she hadn't believed one word that had just come out of his mouth but was considering it anyway because of the oath. She shook her head quickly and walked to the bathroom to take a shower, half-convinced it was just her imagination. By the time she got out and dressed for the day she had almost dismissed it entirely as an after-effect of being scared awake in a strange bed. But…

_Oh well, nothing to be done about it now. _She went to tell him goodbye and found him asleep in his bed. In the exact place and position that she had been in! _All right, now __that__ one's just a little bit strange… unless he's making use of the warm spot I left behind…or…__oh!_ Sometimes the best course of action was to simply walk away and Sarah did precisely that, quietly locking the door behind her as she always did before she left for work.

* * *

The day turned out to be particularly trying. With a three-million-dollar government initiative at stake, Nikola Motors was growing impatient to the point that they had just delivered an ultimatum: if there wasn't significant progress in two weeks they were going to take their business overseas, most likely to Japan. They would scrap her program just like that, throw away almost a year's worth of research just because the people in charge were assholes and were wealthy enough to get away with it. Sarah wasn't sure whether she wanted to scream or cry - sort of both in alternating waves. She was so frustrated it was all she could do not to pound her desk with her bare fists when the meeting was adjourned and she was once again in the safety of her cubicle. She was burned out.

_How __could__ they…? __Enough_, she forced herself to breathe normally. No more today. It would be here tomorrow. Sarah thought for a moment, then locked her briefcase in the bottom drawer of her filing cabinet, simply taking her purse home. If nobody else gave a shit about what she was doing, why should she kill herself over a project she would most likely be signed away from in two weeks? At least the travesty would be over but it would still leave a bitter taste in her mouth; she couldn't help thinking how close they were. If only they had more time.

_As usual, 'if only' doesn't cut it_, she thought tersely as she watched Denver appear as she went over the hill on Interstate 40, crossing Irving St. She sighed. No more tonight. She wasn't going to think about it anymore tonight. She had grabbed Mexican takeout on the way home for herself; it was late enough that Jareth had probably already eaten dinner but she'd give him her chips and guacamole if he hadn't felt like facing more Chinese; God knows they would be eating the leftovers for a few days. By the time she pulled into the parking lot she had already had a good cry.

_At least I won't be doing it in front of him_, she thought as she checked herself in the mirror before getting out of the car. As she entered the building, freestyle jazz was emanating from her apartment. _I'd pay good money to watch him try to dance to __that__, _she smirked, climbing the stairs. She opened the door and found him sitting on the couch reading the newspaper; the different sections were strewn out all over the coffee table. He didn't even look up as he spoke to her.

"I'm beginning to understand the human obsession with fantasy and escapism - most of this is positively horrid. And this particular type of music is so frenetic I simply can't get used to it; I've been listening to it for three hours to no avail."

Sarah walked over and turned the radio off, casually ripped the world news section out of his hands and placed the comics in his lap. He looked up at her a bit quizzically.

"We're in an odd mood tonight. What happened at work?"

She sighed. "I don't even want to talk about it." She was about to walk to the kitchen when she suddenly changed her mind and sat down in the recliner, opening the paper bag. She roughly tore into it, taking him a bit by surprise. "They're shutting down the project."

"What?!"

"You heard. If there's no progress in two weeks, they're canceling on us. Nikola Motors can't afford it anymore."

"But you've worked so hard on this! They can't!"

"Money talks, Jareth. You of all people should understand that," she said bitterly, diving into her vegetarian fajita burrito.

"I am not in the habit of firing someone because I've asked too much of them," he spat out. "I'm going to stop them," he added darkly, getting up.

"No, you're not. Sit back down," Sarah calmly ordered between bites. He eyed her for a moment then quietly did as he was told. The last thing he needed was for her to be angry at him.

"Well, we have to do something."

"Do you know how to build this stupid battery?!" she finally snapped. "You tell me and we'll both know!"

He went silent, staring at his folded hands. He had to help her, this was the beginning of everything she had ever wanted; he couldn't let a handful of short-sighted idiots take that dream away. Perhaps if he did more research on the companies involved he could dig up something useful. Sarah was opening up the guac and set both it and the chips on the table.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, J.," she sighed tiredly, shaking her head, "I'm just at my wit's end here. I don't know what we're going to do. Want some?"

He shook his head. "It's alright, go ahead; I have already eaten." It was obvious from the caloric density that this was what humans called 'comfort food'.

"Just try one. Bet you'll like it," she said with a half smile, fighting her way through the enormous burrito. He reached over and dipped one of the chips into the odd, green goo before consuming it. She was right, it was actually quite good in spite of its appearance - some sort of spiced vegetable paste - but she needed it more than he did. He sat back and let her finish her meal in peace, reading through the sets of blocked pictures she'd handed him. It was obviously the humor section. After she finished she went to the kitchen and disposed of her trash. Then had an idea. There was half a bottle of tequila in the very back of the pantry - it was leftover from the office Christmas party, she had almost completely forgotten about it and had half a mind to make up some drinks. Sarah didn't indulge often but tonight was going to be an exception; her company could certainly stomach it. "Any preferences on flavoring, Jareth?"

He looked up. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm making drinks. What would you like?"

Jareth sighed a bit disappointedly and put down the paper.

"Sarah, your alcohol tolerance level is relatively low," he looked concerned. She turned her head to look at him, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, that was the idea," she nodded.

"But you have to work tomorrow; you'll regret getting drunk."

In spite of the brave performance she was turning in, it was obvious that Sarah was on the brink of crying when she talked again; her voice was breaking up.

"J., right now I don't give a shit about work. I just don't want to think about this anymore for a while, okay?"

His eyes suddenly lit up and he looked away with a dangerous little smile. "What if I were to offer you an alternative that could do just that - temporarily get your mind off of your troubles - but without any after effects?"

Sarah turned all the way around, looking extremely dubious. "What exactly are we talking about here? I don't want whatever it was you slipped me before and I certainly don't want anything addictive or dangerous."

He looked thoughtful. "Well, it's only dangerous if you're unsupervised - which you wouldn't be - and it's only addictive if you're on it too long. I'd time you to precisely twenty minutes - no more, no less. You would be perfectly safe. What do you say?" He was wearing a devilishly debonair little smile.

She still looked unsure as she walked back to the living room. "I'll reiterate my first question: what are you _talking_ about?"

"A potion, diluted to be just right for your weight and constitution. And no, it's not what you had before." He produced a crystal and it dissolved into a small, dark blue vial with a cork stopper. He brought it up to eye level and regarded it as an old friend. "I've been known to socially indulge in this one myself," he smirked. "It is called Fountain of Youth colloquially and is considered by many of my kind to be a godsend since we spent so much of our lives as adults. There always has to be at least one sober person in the room to administer the remedy at the right time and to monitor the participants to make sure they don't do anything too stupid. The general effect is giddiness and some loss of inhibition and maturity, not unlike what is experienced in youth - hence the name. Most individuals end up rather silly so you can well imagine the kind of stories that circulate after one of these parties: sometimes well-buried thoughts and feelings come to the fore when the person didn't even know they were there. Oh, the scandal," he laughed. "I don't think you have any nasty little surprises to worry about as far as that's concerned, though; we've already dug through your closet of skeletons and I feel well-acquainted with each and every last one of them - I seriously doubt there's anything more left to surface." _And what you haven't told me, I __know__. _"I thought we'd take turns if you don't mind - ladies first. At any rate, you'll see what it does so what I'm like won't surprise you."

She seriously considered the offer but with a healthy amount of trepidation. "This would require a huge amount of trust on my part."

"That _was_ a side benefit, yes," he smiled, parodying her.

"…what's the cure?"

"Salt," he said matter-of-factly.

"Salt? That's all?"

"Yes."

"…how much?"

"In your case? One quarter-teaspoonful, swallowed without water."

"Oh yuck!"

"That's nothing - you should see how much I have to consume." There was a playful little smirk on his face. "Come on, have I ever knowingly hurt you?"

"I know, it's just that 'knowing' part," she winced.

His voice was flat. "Sarah, this isn't guesswork, it's science; I had to learn how to do this."

She seriously thought. Of anyone she had ever known, she honestly couldn't find anymore more capable of handling her life carefully when placed into his hands. She had already done it on a small scale with his meditation and the dancing and some of the exercises they had done. And dealing with her boss. This was the next logical step. But how many more would there have to be?

_Oh, who cares! This was your idea in the first place. He's only trying to help._

"Sarah, for what it's worth, I will not intrude on your will any farther. You've volunteered more than I would've _ever_ done if the roles were reversed."

She nodded solemnly, her decision made. "…okay."

He broadly smiled at her like 'I knew you could do it!' and got up and walked over to the kitchen sink. "Where is your salt, by the way? We'd best have it readily on hand."

"I have a canister of plain sea salt above the sink in the top cupboard," she said, sitting down on the couch.

"Good girl," he smirked, locating it and placing it on the countertop. "Morgan's the chemist of the family," he said, perusing her glass cupboard for a tall water glass and a small wine taster. She could only see his back but it looked like he had filled the water glass with tap water, measuring out just a drop of the potion at eye-level. "She has the patience and acumen for all that memorizing and careful measuring of hundreds of thousands of different ingredients. Not I," he smiled wryly, stirring the glass with one of the wooden chop sticks that had come with the previous night's dinner. "I only keep about a dozen potions on hand at any given time, the rudimentary basics really: sleep spells, truth serum, pixie-led, forgetting, remembering, aphrodisiacs, the odd recreational - stuff like that." He filled the wine taster with the liquid and poured the rest down the drain - only to pour the remainder back into the empty water glass to dilute it again! "My sister got her talent from our mother. Would you believe that my mother, who is considered by many to be a saint, had the audacity to slip my father a potion - oh yes, he was High King at the time - and bedded him just so she could force him to marry her out of all those other courtiers just because she was carrying his first son?" He actually sounded proud of her.

_So, sneaky and conniving runs in the family after all,_ Sarah thought. _They just don't talk about it. Polite society and all that. _Jareth finished by filling the wine taster again - only half-full - dumping the rest down the sink with a hefty shake of salt and throwing away the chopstick after it had been well-coated with salt as well.

"So it doesn't contaminate the water supply," he said, washing his hands and drying them on a paper towel (that got salted as well) before picking up her glass and bringing it back into the living room, sitting back down on the couch beside her. She had no idea where he'd stashed the vial. He looked at the clock on the wall in the dining room before handing her the wine taster. "It's 7:41 now so I'll administer the salt at 8:00 sharp. Go ahead and drink up, dear," he prompted her with a smile. She eyed the glass curiously and gave the contents a sniff - it had a pungent, earthy smell with just a tang of something she couldn't quite recognize. She glanced over and saw his look of excited anticipation.

_Here's hoping you're not your __mother_, she thought resignedly, knocking it back. She felt him take the glass from her hand as her vision swam and the air suddenly felt hot and fuzzy against her skin, almost like a blanket. The sensation left as quickly as it came and she felt her eyes adjust as the room came back into focus. Only she wasn't. She looked over and remembered Jareth was there. All-of-a-sudden her eyes raked him almost without her conscious volition and she found herself blushing and giggling like she was a teenager!

He had watched her go through the hallucinatory phase unperturbed - her eyes fully dilated for a moment and her body temperature was briefly high as the potion began to dance through her veins but her breathing remained unaffected and she was calm upon becoming aware again - she was doing splendidly. When she started giggling he knew it was time to interact.

"What's so funny?" he teased her.

"You're pretty," she said quietly, lightly chewing on a finger.

"Why, thank you," he genially replied. _Gods, she's tempting this way!_ He continued in a gentle tone of voice, as one would use with a child. "We have twenty minutes, Sarah. What do you want to do?" She looked up at the ceiling like she was thinking, suddenly gasped and stood bolt up.

"Roller-skating!"

"Sorry, love, but we have to stay in the apartment and you don't have much space in here." She crossed her arms and sulked. "Come now, what can we do in _here_ that's fun?" he gently urged her. A slow grin spread across her face.

"…Twister."

"Twister?"

"Twister! I haven't played this since I was little, come on!" she called to him as she ran to the hall closet and began digging through the contents of the top shelf until she came across the right box. She triumphantly carried it back to the living room and shoved the table out of the way, laying the game cloth out on the floor. Jareth had never seen the game before and wondered what it all entailed. She took the spinner out of the box and put it down on the table. "Take those big boots off and get over here," she said, ripping off her loafers and casting them aside. With an amused smirk he removed his footwear as he was bade and walked over to play.

"How is this done?"

"Put your hand or foot on what the spinner says."

He thought for a moment. "But one of us must be able to spin."

"Yeah. And?"

Jareth grabbed the box off the coffee table and quickly read the short paragraph of instructions. Sarah had clearly forgotten how it was played; it required a third person to spin and call out the moves for both players - they had to be able to move simultaneously. Other than that obstacle it seemed a fairly simple little game - the opponents tried to keep their balance until one fell down. Jareth was a bit concerned about the wooden floor but quickly amended the problem by making a small Persian rug materialize beneath the game cloth. The old piece of plastic had obviously seen plenty of use in its day. Now that left the spinner…

"Would you mind if I spun?"

"Okay, but you can't tell it where to stop," she pointed out triumphantly.

"Ah, I can't trick you, now can I?"

She shook her head no with a huge, playful grin. He put the box back down on the table and put the spinner down on the floor, passing a hand over it and muttering something under his breath. They stood opposite each other to start and the arrow on the spinner took a good little twirl on its own, slowly landing on green foot. They were both surprised that the first few plays were feet only. Of course, when an arm play was finally required, they were instantly in hideous positions, his crest was bapping her in the face.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, love." It instantly disappeared only to rematerialize in his pocket.

"Red foot? Oh yeah right."

"Do it, I'm waiting," he teased her, shifting his right foot over one circle. Sarah took a couple of deep breaths and switched all the way around so that she was facing up - the needed foot had to grab the spot way out on the edge in a difficult stretch between his legs.

"Bravo," he purred and spun again. "Ye gods."

"Quit complaining," she teased him sing-songily, easily shifting her right hand. Jareth gritted his teeth and reached over her torso to the left but he couldn't quite make the reach - it was too far and she was deliberately positioned to be in his way - and he came crashing down on top of her! He immediately rolled off of her and sat up. She was just lying there, laughing her head off.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded affirmatively. "You lose!" she taunted, grinning.

"Ah, but that was only round one! We still have time for another."

He gave Sarah a careful hand up. Once she was standing, she suddenly looked at him with a half-believing amused expression as if struck with an idea. Out of the blue she crossed the small distance between them and, bending her knees a bit, lifted him off of his feet! In spite of his height and strength he really didn't weigh that much; he couldn't have been more than 100 lbs. It seemed comical that someone like Jareth could be so light; it must've had to do with him being Sidhe. He looked down at her with an annoyedly amused little smile.

"Excuse you."

She gave a laugh and put him back down. "You weigh less than me!"

"Just because I look like this on the outside doesn't mean I'm built like you on the inside."

"Weird."

"No, not really; you've just never known a Sidhe before. I'm going to win this time."

"No stretching."

"…you're taking all the fun out of this!"

She stuck her tongue out at him briefly and the game began. In spite of her potioned state, Sarah had incredible balance and was remarkably limber. He ended up underneath her this time around, struggling to keep in position. He noticed that she was deliberately trying to block his moves with her body, making getting to the right circles harder and harder. At last there was one stretch of the legs that was simply too far and he grabbed her shirt for balance, making them both fall again. He turned beneath her and pulled her to himself as she had begun to get up, taking her by surprise. She was so beautiful, so entirely herself like this, with all the pretense and pretending stripped away. She was blatantly eying his mouth with open hunger and he was half-considering beating her to the point when he glanced up at the clock: he had one minute remaining! He jumped up, forcing her to sit as a whiny protest escaped her throat. Within seconds the plastic ¼ teaspoon of salt was before her lips.

"Sarah, you must eat this now, it's for your own good."

"But I don't wanna! That tastes yucky!" Her pouting was sounding younger by the instant and he knew he didn't have a moment to lose. With a thought he forced her mouth open and tipped the entire contents of the spoon onto her tongue before shutting it again. She grimaced against the taste, shuddering. The fact that she hadn't acted shocked right there was proof enough of how high she was getting.

"Swallow." She shook her head. "Swallow, damn it! Time is of the essence!" He kept her steady as she finally forced it down. He had almost waited too long. She slowly closed her eyes but her breathing was even and at a decent pace. After a few seconds she sighed deeply and slowly shook her head, blinking a few times as if waking up. She saw Jareth and gasped lightly as she regained full consciousness. He expression was all concern but it immediately melted into relief as he let out the breath he didn't even realize he had been holding. "Oh, thank the gods," he sighed, letting go of her left shoulder to caress her cheek. Her look was one of warning.

"Jareth, I thought you said that was safe."

"I didn't realize you were going to fight me! Although, really, I should've anticipated it; you were quite rebellious as a child. We still technically caught it in enough time, though. How do you feel?"

Sarah stopped for a moment and seriously thought about it. "…I feel great!" she laughed, almost unbelieving. "I don't feel like we did anything at all! Oh for crying out loud…" She had just noticed the Twister game on the floor beneath them. _Of all the things to do with __him__…wait…I __picked him up__?! __That__ took nerve_. She smiled and silently laughed at the surfacing memory. Jareth watched her remembering, relieved. They had cut it far too close for comfort but she was going to be just fine. In a blink of an eye the game was gone and Sarah could finally see the rug he had made for the game: it was ornately designed and in many different colors but the predominant one in the border and the background was a reddish burgundy.

"_My_ turn," he said with a devious smile. "I am accustomed to timing myself but still watch the clock - I only get fifteen minutes. I will also warn you that while I will experience many of the same effects that you just did, I am also known to be more volatile than usual when I am like this, both in temperament and magic so try not to provoke me any more than absolutely necessary." While he was talking he had walked back over to the couch and had motioned for Sarah to come over, too. Starting to wonder if this had been such a good idea after all, Sarah carefully sat down to his right as he pulled out the vial again. She noted that the salt canister had been relocated to the coffee table. He carefully removed the cork, toasted her with half a smile and took a shot straight off the bottle, quickly replacing the cork it and making it disappear again. The potion knocked him back into the couch almost immediately and Sarah watched concernedly as his eyes rolled up before they closed. His breathing was very slow yet even as if he had just passed out…but then a big, lazy smile spread across his face.

_Oh yeah, he's flying_, Sarah smirked, shaking her head. _Figures_. Suddenly Jareth's eyes shot open as if he had been struck by lightning and his strange, fierce gaze flicked immediately to her! _Holy __shit__!_ He looked as furious as a volcano and as deadly as a viper as he began to slowly advance on her, backing her into the corner of the couch. _Oh. My. God. He is going to __kill me__! __Shit__! I __never__ should've agreed to this!_

"What no one knew was that the king of the goblins was the world's most ruthless, calculating, and unmerciful…"

_Here it comes, please be quick! _She winced her eyes closed against the attack.

"**TICKLER!****"**

At that he immediately began to assault her ribs and armpits with flying-fast fingers and a huge, fierce grin on his face! Sarah had been so surprised that she had had absolutely no time to react and was helplessly laughing, pleading him to stop, trying in vain to force his hands away, he was far too fast for her. At last she was so winded that she was red in the face and could scarcely breathe by the time he relented. There was an oddly incongruous emotion in his eyes as he watched her pant, catching her breath, smiling up at him - both excited and tender - and before Sarah realized what was happening he shot forward and kissed her. At first she was so surprised that she simply sat there frozen but in the next moment she completely _melted_, her knees and back turning to water as she returned his languorous kiss automatically, sighing. Her head was reeling from the sensation as he began to stroke his tongue against hers, lightly at first then deeper as she allowed him access. Oh god, it felt _incredible_. His fingers ran through her hair, stroking her, guiding her mouth in his sensual dance of kisses. His hands slid around her back and soon she was effectively pinned beneath him in a rather advantageous position, with her legs pushed gently apart, as he continued his ravishing invasion of her mouth. Her own hands seemed to find their way around his back, up to cradle his head to her, her body beginning to take over, urging him closer. She could taste the potion on his mouth and the residue alone was beginning to weaken her willpower. It was _delicious_. She wouldn't be able to take much more of this exquisitely beautiful torture or she would _crack_ and it seemed he was in the same boat. Within another breath, he ground into her. Startled aware by the pleasure he had just elicited from her and her own sudden need, she managed to shove him off of her back onto the couch. He looked stunned for a moment, panting, then turned away, crossing both his arms and legs, his nose turned up in a snit.

"I'm sorry, Jareth, but you're intoxicated!" she said, pouring some salt into her hand and licking it away as a preventative measure; that weird fever had started to return again but it quickly dissipated. As did the odd golden sparkles in her field of vision - she blinked a few times to try to get rid of them.

"And you are intoxicating," he shot over his shoulder, his dark gaze filled with desire, it was almost magnetic. Sarah could feel herself blushing again, painfully aware now of the fact that Jareth could most likely seduce her with unspeakable ease if he really put his mind to it. In fact, a part of her was more than willing to find out what it was like, but such a game was even more dangerous than the one they were currently playing. Trying to regain her cool, Sarah addressed him again, flustered.

"Why don't we play another game?"

He turned all the way around with a look of wickedly heated interest. "What a wonderful idea, my Sarah," he purred her name, sending chills down her spine as he began to move closer. "Where shall I begin, mm?"

Sarah involuntarily gasped and it took every last shred of her self-control not to fling herself at him then and there. Why did he have to be so damned tempting?! It was his eyes, she finally realized. And his voice. And…_oh!_

"I meant a board game out of my closet," she said as flatly as possible.

"…what if we just skipped the game and did the closet?"

"No!"

"Fine, be a cold fish," he pouted, stalking off to the hallway. After some rummaging on the top shelf, he finally found something that caught his eye and he pulled it free. Sarah could've sworn she'd just heard him giggle.

_Good grief, it must be taking effect in __stages__! Well, he __does__ have a little farther to go,_ she smirked a bit cruelly. When he came back in with a big smile and bright eyes carrying the Pretty Pretty Princess game, Sarah could've just died. She was really doing her best not to laugh aloud but biting her lips inward as she shook with silent laughter wide-eyed was apparently just as bad.

"What?! You said I was pretty!" he exclaimed in a bizarrely childish voice. Just hearing him speak like that was enough to scare her into silence.

_Whoa_…

"You said we could play any game in your closet and I wanna play _this_ one!"

"Alright, let's set up," she nodded, smiling. _Oh. My. God._ He sat down on the rug and she went over and sat also, getting the game out of the box. She hadn't touched it since she was…well…fourteen. It had still been her favorite crown even though she didn't play the game at that point. Boy did this bring back memories. "What color do you want to play?"

"Purple, 'cause I'm a king." It was so surreal; he really sounded like he was five years old. Even his eyes sparkled like a young boy's. It was a complete paradox. When she pulled out the yellow game piece so she could sit opposite him, he protested. "Nah, you be blue."

_Don't argue with him, it's only a game._ "Okay." They both put their pieces on the board and spun to see who would go first. When Jareth took his turn, the spinner landed on a two - then suddenly jumped to a four. "Hey!"

"What?"

"You cheated!"

"You didn't say how I had to spin," he smiled triumphantly.

"You have to let it stop on its own."

"Oh fine," he sulked. Sarah started. After a few turns they both had some of the jewelry they needed and Jareth had just gotten the crown (of course he had to stop and 'admire the pretty pretty prince[ss]' in the cheap mirror on the back of the spinner and remark on his plasticky splendor - he was being a stickler for the rules now just to be annoying but Sarah got the distinct feeling that he would've done it anyway.) When Jareth clipped on his first earring he did it too hard; he winced and ripped it off angrily, casting it back in the circular jewelry box in the center of the game board.

"You don't have to wear them if it hurts, Jareth," she reassured him, taking it back out of the box and placing it in front of him. "Just keep them by you."

"But you're wearing yours."

"Yes."

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"No, not really. They pinch a little, though. Try putting it on more slowly this time." Looking at her, he was a bit skeptical of what she had just said but not to be outdone by a girl, Jareth put it on more carefully and it closed without pinching. He leaned in conspiratorially.

"I've seen gypsies with their ears pierced before. I liked how it made them look but it must've hurt a lot," he whispered.

_You __bully__, you __are__ scared of getting hurt! I'll show you. _Sarah lifted her hair back and deliberately showed him where her ears were pierced, watching his eyes go wide, first with disbelief, then in new-found admiration. "My mother paid to have them done when I was a little girl."

"Didn't it hurt?"

"Of course; I cried when they put them in. They bled a little for a few days. You have to wear these special posts to make sure they heal that way."

"Ha ha, you cried," he taunted her.

"And you wouldn't?"

"Come on, let's go! I'm no sissy!" he jumped to his feet.

"Oh no you won't."

"And WHY NOT?!" He was suddenly furious. Sarah gulped but forced herself to remain calm. His words from before echoed in her memory. '_I am quite volatile this way.'_

"Because the needles they use to do it here are iron," she said flatly. He noticeably paled and quietly sat back down, looking a bit sheepish. The game resumed. Jareth was considerably in the lead but he had acquired the Black Ring and had to get rid of it in order to win.

"What if the Black Ring was my special power ring?"

"Oh? And what special powers would your ring have?" It was exactly like playing with a child.

"It would let me turn into anything. Grow a hundred feet. Travel to distant planets and stars. Anything I want, of course," he pronounced, sounding quite the conceit.

_The world's always revolved around you, hasn't it?_ Sarah thought ruefully. She was down a necklace and the crown but all he was missing was a bracelet. After a few redundant plays Jareth finally got rid of the Black ring and hit a 'pick any piece' - he had just won for the first time all night. He was busy admiring himself in the mirror when an idea suddenly struck Sarah and it was all she could do to keep from laughing aloud. "Would His Majesty mind if I made his portrait on an instant device?" she asked as formally as she could muster without busting up.

"Not at all," he waved her off. Sarah got up and _ran_ to her bedroom to get her digital camera. She came back in and carefully centered the screen.

"If His Majesty would be so kind as to smile." Jareth obliged her with a huge, cheeky grin that was so big his eyes were squinted closed. "Perfect." She got the shot and put the camera down on the coffee table. They had begun picking up the game when Jareth began really looking about himself with a confused expression and suddenly remembered where he was. Sarah had thought that she would never see the day when she saw him afraid but here he was, looking as scared as a little boy. His eyes met hers.

"I wanna go _home_," he almost sobbed. Sarah's heart almost broke hearing him say that: no matter how tough, indifferent, and nonchalant he was on the outside, on the inside he was terrified of his current situation. She wanted to hug him and console him and tell him everything would be alright but she knew she couldn't make promises like that. Not when he didn't even know for certain himself. She checked the clock - it was almost time to end it.

"Here, take your salt," she said gently with a look of genuine sympathy and care, handing him the canister. He sniffed and nodded his head, seeming to remember what he had to do. Opening the spout, he proceeded to pour it straight down his throat for two or three seconds, stopping abruptly, spluttering at the taste, taking a bit more and putting it back down on the coffee table, smacking his lips, trying to clear his mouth of the flavor. Sarah got up and got him a glass of tap water and he downed it heartily and begged for another. His eyes were glazed. After the second glass was drained he managed to set it down on the table and proceeded to lie down on his back on the floor, eyes closed, panting in obvious relief. At length he stiffly sat back up and was met by Sarah's concerned gaze. "Are you all right?"

"Quite. You gave me the salt at the proper time," he replied in a conversational voice, as if reverting back to one's childhood was an everyday occurrence. It was then that he noticed that he was still wearing the plastic crown. He gingerly removed it from his head and eyed it with a bemused little smirk. Then the memories started coming back… "Let me see that device for a moment," he gestured toward the table with a devious little half-smile.

"Not on your life, this one's priceless," Sarah smiled, carrying her little treasure trove to her bedroom, stashing it in her underwear drawer, one of the places he was forbidden to search. When she came back into the room the princess game was packed up on the coffee table but Jareth was still sitting on the floor cross-legged with an enigmatic little smile. It was an unnervingly unreadable expression that could've meant a hundred different things at once or none of them and for some reason Sarah found it strangely attractive. How much of who he was was wrapped up in what he was? What would it be like having to explain being human? Could one ever truly separate one's personality completely from one's physical existence? Jareth could tell that the gears were turning. It was infuriating not knowing what she was thinking, but if it put her at ease, so be it.

"You're not supposed to be thinking, love, you're supposed to be enjoying yourself," he drawled smoothly.

"I was just pondering something completely crazy."

"No doubt to do with me."

"You're such a conceit!"

He simply shrugged. "If it had been about anything else you would've spoken freely - don't deny it, I know you too well," he smiled teasingly.

Sarah stopped. "But that means that you do the exact-" He cut her off, clearing his throat, looking away. _Fine, we're __even_, she mentally smirked.

"Do we still feel like games or did you feel up to a different pursuit by now?" The question was stated as simply as 'pass the salt' but the underlying innuendo was painfully apparent. Sarah did her best to pretend not to notice.

"What kind of games do you play at home?"

Jareth gave a laugh. "Hardly anything that you'd play here. Rough-housing with the goblins, keeping up intrigues at court, smashing crystals against the wall in sheer boredom - like I said, nothing you could do here and, really, it isn't all that entertaining in the first place. Wait - I do play chess. No, it would be wrong of me to ask you," he waved off the idea.

"Why? Can't you play against a human?"

"I haven't lost a game in over four centuries," he stated flatly.

Sarah gulped, blinking. "Who did you lose to?"

"Sylvanias. I lost several acres of land to the north. He wanted to cultivate it to grow food for his province - it's rather overcrowded as it is."

"So you bet when you play."

"It is an honor-bound tradition. Both players must be willing to wager something."

"What did you wager him?

"Tax-free imports. You see, these things are rarely done for leisure by adult Sidhe."

"Are you really that busy?"

"No, dear, not usually. It's just the society."

"Did you used to play for fun?"

He sighed wistfully, nodding. "Yes, but it was a very long time ago."

"You miss it, then."

He nodded again.

"We could play for cheap thrills just to see how fast you can beat me. I used to play a bit in college but that was a while back for me, too. When was the last time you played a human anyway?"

"You don't even want to know," he smiled sardonically.

"See? I might have some sort of secret advantage, you never know," she teased him.

He regarded her with a frowning smirk. "You're awfully bent on getting trampled."

"I have to admit I'm curious."

"Ah, very well."

Sarah got up to get her set out of the closet but Jareth put a hand up to stop her.

"We'll use mine." He stared at the carpet in front of him seemingly holding a shape with his hands and before Sarah could object to his frivolous use of power the most elaborately carved chess set she had ever laid eyes on neatly appeared in front of him on the floor. It was an extremely old design with early medieval-looking pieces - no, Viking, Norse - save the board itself, which had every other square carved in a beautiful Celtic knot with animorphic beasts and birds intertwined along the inch-thick base. The board looked like carved marble with tinting to offset the designs but the playing pieces were priceless: they were literally carved from solid chunks of onyx and - dare she think it - emerald. There were no white pieces. It really was a chess set fit for a king. To complete Sarah's surprise, Jareth lay down on his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows as if this was nothing more spectacular than checkers. And looked up. "Well? You're the one who wanted to challenge me. Have a seat." Sarah came back over and sat back down, still admiring it. It looked like it should've been in a museum and not sitting here in her living room.

"I'm afraid to touch it! You actually play with these?"

"Of course. Not to worry - you can't even scratch them: watch this." And with that he picked up an emerald knight and bounced it off the hard wooden floor, making Sarah jump slightly. He picked it back up and showed it to her closely. "See? No harm done. They need polishing occasionally but that's all. The set was made to withstand me. It was a gift from my parents." They set up with Sarah as green and Jareth as black - but he suddenly changed his mind. "I always play black, I want to be green for a change."

"Whatever, I don't care, it's your game," she laughed.

He regarded her for a moment. "Usually a choice in color tells something about an opponent. You have no preference, that's interesting."

"Maybe I just don't have deep, dark secrets like everyone else you know," she rolled her eyes.

"That is a distinct possibility," he smirked. "We still have to determine the bet. What would you want from me if the gods intervene and you win?"

"Could you be any more sure of yourself, J?"

"Well - yes, you're playing a fae king, dear; it's usually my job to win. Now what do you want from me if I lose?"

Sarah thought for a moment. "What would you want from me?"

Jareth looked thoughtful. "Well, since it's almost guaranteed that you are going to lose I shall choose something practical. Let's see…" After a moment his eyes suddenly lit up with a glorious idea. "I'll make you a sporting offer: if I ever find clothing in an aboveground shop that is comparable to my regular wardrobe, you will not only let me wear mine similarly in public but you will buy me a suit of it, just to prove that it exists. I know you think that you are doing what is best here but I tire of the constant charade whenever we go anywhere."

Sarah surrendered a half-smile. She had never really cared much about everyday clothing but a fashion maven like Jareth was probably inwardly seething at the thought that his sense of personal style was being so far compromised even if it _was_ in the name of safety.

"It can't be a costume shop."

"Fine."

"…agreed."

"And yours?"

A slow smile spread across Sarah's face. "You have to tell me what it was you were thinking about last night on the couch."

"Oh for heaven's sake, Sarah," he laughed, "is it really bothering you that badly? I shouldn't have said anything at all!"

"I just don't like secrets waved in front of my face like that."

_Is that really __all__, love?_ A secretive little smile played about his lips. "Done. The pact is set now; play can commence. The challenger always starts first," he made a welcoming gesture toward her. They began taking out each other's pawns.

"You said this was a gift from your parents. When did you get it?"

"I was quite young. The age would seem very bizarre to you because it takes my kind a bit longer to physically and mentally mature but suffice it to say that I was a child. Most mornings Syl and I used to sneak away from the governess and hide and play at this until we were caught by the serving staff, led off by our ears to our tutoring. It always took them at least an hour to find us. It is truly amazing that either of us has any ears left," he laughed. "Sylvanias always had ingenious ideas for places to hide. He had discovered in some of his early ramblings about the castle before I was born that some of the outer walls that were used for defense were hollow in places with secret panel openings and air shafts for archers. We were often in there. Some of them were quite small, not even meant to be manned by a grown sidhe, I believe, but by one of an entirely different species, dwarf or brownie perhaps. I can honestly say that I have never seen them in use. There wasn't even enough room to sit up straight most of the time."

_Well, that explains his __stance__ at least_, Sarah thought as he took her other bishop. The game hadn't been going on long and he was already beating her quite efficiently. After stopping for a moment seemingly to consider his options, he resumed his play as well as his narrative.

"Anyway, it took me the longest time to figure out why our parents even allowed it to go on for so many years. We certainly weren't coddled any other way. My father could've easily put a stop to it by magically securing our rooms. Each and every time we were caught we were forcibly dragged before them but the most punishment we ever received was a mild reprimand for making so much work for the servants. It was as usual as 'good morning'. I found out years later from my mother that our father thought our little games were an excellent impromptu lesson in strategy: the careful planning, the signals, covering our tracks, mapping out the next route and anticipating who we would have to avoid to get there. We couldn't do it the same way twice - they were always on the lookout for us. He even changed the route the castle sentries took at random just to keep us on our toes." He sighed, shaking his head with a sad smile at the memories. "Father was a sly, old fox. I miss him," he said quietly. "We tried getting Morgan in on the fun but more often than not she just snitched on us to Mother and it wasn't long before Syl's and my studies accelerated to the point that we had precious little time for anything else. The royal training was very heavy and intensive. You must remember, dear, that sidhe are very long-lived, and as a direct result much more is expected to come of it whether the idea is an accurate assumption or not. It is what is aimed for."

"I played at it a bit with Morgan in our spare time when she got older but it just wasn't the same. By the time Kavin came along Syl was already doing his mandatory service for the army as next in lineage for the Crown and I no longer had time to play myself. Kavin's always been a bit strange; he's all brain. We wonder if he was born without feelings; it happens sometimes with the fae," he said, looking thoughtful. "He is significantly younger than any of us. I genuinely believe he was unexpected because he was born during the Great War of the Houses just days after my father died. If he considers himself close to any of us, it's Morgan. Along with my father, we lost quite a bit of political power during that war and now we rule more like barons, with a High Council and Court to serve final jurisdiction instead of a High King. That lot would've fallen to Sylvanias but that's all the past now. By the way, you may wish to consider moving your king; I can get him in the next couple of turns if you're not careful."

Sarah looked down at the decimated board. Jareth hadn't even lost a knight and all she had left were her king and a rook. And they were completely surrounded!

_How is that even __possible__?!_ "Just get it over with. There's no way I can get out of that," she sighed. In two more turns all that was left on the board was green.

"I trust that we don't care for another round."

"Yeah, that one was fairly depressing."

"And the whole idea was to cheer you up," he tisked. The entire game vanished from between them. "What now?" he looked up at her.

"I don't know," she said dejectedly, looking away.

"Whoever comes up with the most despicable limerick wins?"

"I think not," she smiled.

"I could tickle you until you tell me where you hid that device," he continued incorrigibly.

"No!" she laughed.

"Try to toss little balls of paper down the front of your blouse?" he smiled, eyes sparkling. He was openly teasing her now.

"Oh you!" Her right hand primed to take a playful bat at his cheek but he suddenly flashed out and caught her by the wrist, mere centimeters from his face. His expression was dangerous. She gasped, eyes wide, and gulped. His grip, while not tight enough to hurt her, was solid as iron. A wry, hard smile, crossed half his face.

"You can punch me in the arm as often as you like but you will learn in time that there are ways in which you _never_ strike a fae." And with that he brought her palm to his mouth and, closing his eyes, gave it an open-mouthed kiss - just one hot, velvet stroke of his tongue before releasing her. There were butterflies in Sarah's stomach the simple act was so pleasurable and she was hard-pressed in trying not to let it show, the elbow she was propped up on nearly gave out. She knew that he saw it in her eyes when he met them again. She could feel her will to resist him palpably weakening.

_What does it even __matter__?_ she thought passively. _Why are we trying to hide? Oh god, he's so…_ it was then that her rational brain clicked into gear, just in time to save her. _Whoa!_ "Monopoly it is!" she exclaimed, quickly forcing herself to her feet and walking back to the closet. Her turned back saved her the sight of the clear regret written on his face.

"You're right, Sarah," he said quietly

"What?"

"You're right. I can't keep compromising you. You aren't a pawn and it was wrong of me to think that I could use you as one without any consequence," he stated, staring at the floor. It was as simple as it was blatant and it caught her completely off-guard. She turned to look back at him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Sarah was speechless as she returned his gaze. They both had known for quite some time what was really going on but it had never been openly admitted to before. He continued, standing himself. "I can get objects through from my world now without much difficulty, thanks to you. Perhaps I should try to send out a signal that I am here. But to who?"

"Surely the Council would be concerned for your safety."

He gave her a terse smile. "Underground Politics 101, dear: never ask an acquaintance when you can utilize your immediate family - they usually require less payoff. Now let's see…Kavin…the last time I heard from him he was busy overseeing the construction of an inter-kingdom…waterworks I suppose is the word, is it not? Nothing of it's scale has ever been attempted and it will greatly improve the lives of nearly everyone there. He's the architect," he smiled proudly. "No, he's probably still busy. Sylvanias always has time to kill due to his fortunes and social standing but helping me would be a bad move for him politically - some very…influential parties don't care for me very much and I dare say wouldn't be terribly heartbroken if I was removed from the picture altogether. Mother could've done it in her youth but not now; she's not strong anymore." He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "That leaves Morgan." He gave a mirthless laugh. "Can you imagine - my little sister to the rescue?"

"She isn't so little," Sarah added quietly. He glanced up at her in surprise before looking down again with a nod.

"She'll do," he smirked. He closed his eyes in concentration and bowed his head. A wind whipped up from out of nowhere, blowing his crazy hair about his face. In another moment, Sarah saw a ripple of energy rip out of him and quickly expand past her and out of the room. The lights went out and she could hear a dozen car sirens outside and a few barking dogs.

"Jareth?"

"It's alright, love. This kind of energy use seems to interfere with your electricity. In all probability the entire block or two surrounding us just lost power but they'll be able to fix it shortly." He walked over to the window, opening the blind. The light was faint but just enough to see by - the moon outside her window was a silver crescent. "In a few days time I will know if she received it."

"But even then, what will you do? Do you have enough power to transport yourself? You haven't even tried to morph again since that last time."

He sighed. "You just leave that to me. It is no longer your problem."

"No, it _is_ my problem and, I may add, a huge concern right now since we don't know how to amend it!"

He wanly smiled and walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We'll just have to put our heads together and see what we can come up with, then." He gave it a light squeeze and walked past her to the kitchen, opening up a cupboard. Abruptly the lights came back on. "Actually I think I will take you up on the offer for a drink."

Sarah smirked, shaking her head. "You have quite the double-standard when it comes to certain things."

He came back out with a juice glass full of straight tequila. "Let's see: ageless sidhe who can't get drunk, young human who would probably be out cold on the floor from the amount of alcohol in this glass. Really, Sarah, I think it's justifiable here." He crossed the room to the computer.

"Still…"

He sat down at the terminal. "There has to be some wasteful vice out there that you could get ridiculously involved in. Have you ever tried smoking?"

"Jareth, that gives people cancer!"

He turned to look at her. "You're joking."

"Dead serious."

"And here I thought humans were more intelligent than that," he sighed, turning back and getting into the internet. "What was the name of that car company again?"

She gritted her teeth. "Nikola Motors."

"Sorry to remind you but I just wanted to look into the company a bit. Every organization has a weak link."

"What were you thinking about doing?"

"Petty blackmail. Just enough to light the fire under someone's arse."

"But their CEOs aren't responsible for this mess!"

"Oh-ho? _How?_" he shot her a laconic glance over his shoulder.

"…just make sure it's somebody relevant," she finally relented, rolling her eyes.

"Of course," he smiled, turning back to his self-appointed task. He was incorrigible, a rogue through and through, but it was oddly warming to think that he actually wanted to step up to the plate for her. Sarah wasn't used to anybody defending her in any regard; she'd gotten used to having to do it herself.

_You and your weird sense of __chivalry_, _geez_, Sarah thought to herself with…yes, with a tiny smile. _He can probably break into secure pages, too…wait…_ "You're covering your tracks electronically, right? Otherwise people can trace you back to this computer."

He narrowed his eyes at the screen. "Hmm, I suspected as much but I didn't know for certain. It makes sense, though, like the 'caller id' on your telephone. I'll make sure to scramble the back history, then. Don't fret; you are in excellent hands," he smiled, keying in a pass code. Sarah went to the kitchen, looked at the bottle of tequila he had left out on the counter, thought better of it and put it away, making herself a cup of chamomile tea. She heard a distinctly wicked snicker from the other room.

_Jareth, Jareth, Jareth, what am I going to __do__ with you?_ she thought wryly, settling into the recliner with a novel. When he looked over in half an hour she had fallen asleep, the small paperback still lightly clasped in one hand. He got up and retrieved the comforter from her bed and nestled her in, gently putting up the foot rest and laying the chair back. Gods, how was he supposed to forget this woman? One hand strayed to caress her hair behind her ear.

_So beautiful, my Sarah…so good… _More than anything he wanted to kiss her again but he knew he couldn't. That potion had been his undoing. One taste of forbidden fruit and she had been _sweet_ and yielding, even encouraging his advances until it got out of hand. Her limited permissiveness gave him a vain, desperate hope; something to cling to, something to live for. "Goodnight, love," he barely whispered, finally turning away, instantly turning out the lights and the computer. He walked over to the window and looked out into the night sky. He couldn't see the stars but he could hear them singing in his heart. One day, all would be well with the world.


	12. Fashion

Chapt. 12 - Fashion

The heels of Jareth's ever-present boots made a distinct clicking sound as he and Sarah made their way along the sidewalk down the extensive row of shop fronts at the 16th St. Mall in downtown Denver. Sarah glanced down at them for a moment, shaking her head with a wry smile. He noted her sarcasm.

"Oh what?"

"I know you're a clothes horse, J., but those boots can't be comfortable. Don't they ever hurt your feet?"

He smirked at the comment. "You might be surprised at how comfortable they are."

"Yeah right, and stilettos are for hikes in the mountains."

"Stilettos?"

"The evil spike-heels they put on some women's formal shoes."

"Ah."

She was staring straight ahead but he could still feel her attention and gave a laugh, watching her, amused.

"You really don't believe me in spite of the impending wrath of the heavens if I truly lie."

"Nope." They had walked into a covered dead-end with shops all around and a few park benches surrounding a large planter built off the ground with a tree and flowers in it. He sat down and pulled his boots off, exposing his bare feet. It occurred to Sarah that she had never actually seen him barefoot before - he usually wore thin stockings that matched his breeches the few times she had seen him sans shoes.

"It's hot; you're not wearing socks yourself," he observed with a sly little smile, noting that her attention had immediately been drawn down. Humans did their natural fetishes, feet and particularly toes being one of the most logical after the reproductive organs and the face considering the sensations those parts often experienced at the very heights of passion. Oh, to be able to feel like a human! Jareth had the rough approximation of nerve endings where he wanted them due to his ability to shift: he had to be in control of where they ended up and what they did along with everything else, which meant that most of the sensations he experienced were not only anticipated but controlled to a certain degree. It was debated among the Leanaan Sidhe that having little or no control over where and how much sensation was felt was far more pleasurable. Some had been known to seduce humans out of sheer envy, vicariously spurring on and exploitatively enjoying their victim's sensations only to drop them as soon as it was over, leaving the poor human to waste away most of the time, unable to find any physical comfort in another human after what they had experienced with the greedy fae; the stories were notorious on both sides.

He said nothing for a moment, allowing Sarah to take in the sight of his feet. They were large, yet retaining a certain graceful, earthy line that almost bordered on an effeminate beauty like the rest of him. Unlike his hands, his feet were perfect. Sarah had never been one for feet but she knew she was about to make an exception; there was something about Jareth's that was unspeakably sensual.

"Walk in my shoes for a bit," he teasingly invited, holding the tall boots out to her. "Go on, try them out."

"But they're too big!"

"They won't be," he murmured without moving his lips. They were in an extremely public place; one couldn't be too careful. Sarah sighed in faux exasperation and took them, sitting alongside Jareth as she ripped off her recycled Mary-Janes and tucked her capris up so she could put them on. It immediately struck Sarah as strange that they only smelled like very old leather in spite of the fact that he had apparently been walking in them barefoot all day.

_Benefits of magic,_ she thought as she pulled them all the way up. _No stinky feet. _In contrast to the shine, they were softer than suede on the inside. To her surprise, they immediately fitted to her calves and feet as soon as they were completely on! They had a decent-sized heel but it didn't feel as high as it looked. In fact, if she closed her eyes she couldn't tell she was wearing them at all! Sarah got up and tentatively took a few steps…then skipped and leapt from the sheer ease of the movement, drawing a few curious looks from passers-by. They were almost unnaturally comfortable with support in places Sarah wouldn't have ever thought of putting it. Jareth smiled, watching her enjoy them, solidly forcing her to put her rigid notions of hideously uncomfortable human footwear aside for the moment. Clothing was usually deceptive in Jareth's world: who in their right mind would wear something truly constricting or painful?! It simply didn't make sense! Goblins, of course, being the exception to the rule but since when was even having sense a priority with them? Coverings were specifically made to fit the personage intended and not the other way around.

"Light as air and fast as the wind - the cobbler did well when he crafted those. Apart from my crest it is the only article of clothing I wear that I cannot truly change."

"Okay, you've made your point," Sarah said resignedly, walking back to the bench. She was loath to have to take them off now, they made any of her regular shoes seem bulky and awkward in comparison. As she began to reluctantly pull on them to take them off, they automatically loosened for her so she could slip her feet right out. She handed them off.

"I'll see if I can send you back a pair if we survive this ordeal," he said, putting them back on under his black jeans. "They're men's boots but I have noticed that gendered clothing rules aren't as strict in your world as they used to be. They could look quite nice with the right dress I suppose, not to mention under or over a variety of leg coverings. When did women begin to wear trousers here anyway? I don't remember it always being so."

But before Sarah could answer Jareth had looked up and noticed a shop he hadn't seen before that had oddly familiar formal clothing hanging in the window and without any warning he made a beeline for it! Sarah looked up, startled, and suddenly realized where he had gone…

_Oh for crying out loud…_He had just made a mad dash straight into Goth-n-Go with the look of one who had just seen water in the desert! Sighing, Sarah got up and went in after him. Blaring heavy metal greeted her at the faux-rusty gates of the goth emporium as she entered. Sarah found him at the far back left, digging through poet's shirts and pleather, vinyl and velvet pants. He had made his leather gloves reappear so he could handle pieces with metal without getting hurt. "What in the world are you doing in here? This is a teenager outlet!"

Jareth stopped to look up at her. "You have admonished my taste in clothing time and again for being inappropriate and out-of-time. Do you not remember our agreement from the previous night? Well, here it is, dear, and it all looks wonderful," he pronounced triumphantly with a cocky smile. "It appears that you just lost your bet. Not to worry - I shan't clean you out."

"You'd better not; you still have plenty left yourself," she whispered in his ear. He nodded with a half-smile.

"One pair of trousers and a shirt. Anything else I'll catch."

"Deal."

Not knowing what would fit (the quandary itself was novel) Jareth took several sizes of everything to the dressing room as Sarah perused the bizarre, morbid knick-knacks and jewelry along the brick wall. Why on earth anyone would be so interested in death was beyond her, but she could understand the attraction of fancier clothing: hot pink, green, and black corsets, all dripping in black lace and faux-silk ribbons; long intricately linked slave bracelets that attached not only the center finger to the wrist but higher up the arm as well; big theatrically flamboyant boots that ranged from black vinyl hooker thigh-highs and huge platforms to something straight out of a Victorian novel. There were even a couple of full velvet dresses with long, flowing Lilith sleeves and detailed edge embroidery hanging near the ceiling, one black with a burgundy centerpiece, the other pure ivory. The fronts laced up in ribbons with the middle panel in behind with the waists v-ed low in the center. Sarah reached up and felt the hem of the ivory one.

"Sarah?"

She quickly turned around when she heard Jareth's voice. He had come out of the dressing room in a black poet's shirt that laced loosely all the way up the collar tucked into bright, sparkly maroon vinyl pants that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Sarah swallowed, blinking.

"Well, the shirt's fine I guess but those pants make you look like a gigolo."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?" he seductively drawled, taking slow, measured steps towards her with his thumbs looped into the front pockets, leading with the waist, his heated eyes never leaving her face. Sarah flushed profusely at the role he was suddenly playing and had to force herself to breathe.

"I meant they make you look cheap! Go change!"

"Very well," he smiled a knowing smile, backing away to duck behind the velvet curtain again - she had just looked down at his package in spite of herself. How did the old human axiom run? 'If you got it, flaunt it' - wasn't that it? Oh never mind, Sarah no doubt got an eyeful every day with his usual wardrobe; she wasn't used to even seeing that much. The men here were almost ridiculously modest, seemingly scared of what it was that made them men! Moments later he came back out in polyester black slacks which didn't fit to his taste but nevertheless met with approval. Putting back what hadn't worked, he made his way around the rest of the store. While most of the material held a morbid obsession with mortality, suffering and bondage, there were some interesting ideas; these people certainly had a sense of humor if the t-shirts were anything to go by. The whole store smelled of Nag Champa and Dragon's Blood incense. He finally made his way over to the back wall by the ceiling where Sarah had spent most of her time; she was currently digging through the lipstick, trying to find a color she would even consider wearing and mostly finding various shades of black. He looked up and saw not only the ivory dress but a long Victorian dress-coat in tapestried black and grey with silver skulls for the buttons that would work well with his outfit. Roughly guessing that Sarah was a medium, he got an employee to take down both items, catching up to her by the perfume side of the counter. "If I bought this for you, would you wear it?"

"I've already got a warm coat - thanks, though," she teased him with a big smile.

"Very funny, Sarah."

"Well you're the one that wants to be a goth," she countered. "A lot of them cross-dress."

"Really?"

Sarah nodded.

"You never answered my question."

"J., where would I even wear something that fancy?"

"Anywhere you want!" he exclaimed almost rapturously. "You used to-"

"J. - look - I used to do a lot of things that I don't do anymore, okay? I haven't pretended to be a princess since I was very young, since I…" she suddenly stopped, hurt and lost innocence clouding her eyes for a moment before her gaze dropped to the floor. She silently shook her head no. They had come a surprisingly long way in getting her to vent her emotions about the past but it should've been no surprise that the subject was still a bit tender considering what all had been going on in her life at the time even before she took that fateful trip. There had been a reason she had been trying to escape. He gently caught her chin, directing her gaze back up.

"Well, I shall just hope that you change your mind, then," he said gently with a hint of a smile. "I still have to try the coat on; I'm nearly finished."

She gave a curt nod, taking the shirt and pants from him, paying for them while she waited. And waited. And waited. Leaving the bag behind the register with the cashier, she walked back to the dressing room.

"Jareth? Is everything alright in there?"

"I can't get into this confounded jacket; I haven't had to do this manually since I was a very small boy! I can get in one arm or the other but I can't get it to swing around to the other side it's so close of a fit." Sarah couldn't believe what she was hearing!

"You're telling me you actually can't do it?" she asked, her amusement quickly growing.

"…yes," he admitted through gritted teeth. How she must be enjoying _this_. Sarah silently laughed, shaking her head and putting a hand over her eyes; it would be just like teaching Toby all over again.

"Okay. Put the jacket on the floor upside-down and inside up, facing you."

"But the floor's dirty!"

"Then put it on the bench!"

"Fine. Now what?"

"You've done it?"

"Yes," he tersely replied, growing impatient.

"Alright, I just didn't know."

"Can we get on with this?!"

"Okay, alright! Put your arms into the arm holes and fling the entire thing over your head; it should slip right on." Sarah heard a whoosh of air as the drape billowed slightly. The idea was logical enough but whoever invented it hadn't known about tight-fitting coats, Jareth thought as he struggled with the shoulders momentarily. At last it was on.

_Yes, this will work nicely_, he thought, watching himself turn in the mirror. He pulled aside the burgundy velvet dressing curtain. "Well?"

"Turn around."

He complied, smiling.

"Yeah, that one's you," she sighed tiredly with a wry smile herself.

"You realize, of course, that I'm getting that dress for you anyway."

Sarah shrugged. "It's your money to waste; I can't think of one occasion I'd wear it."

"Then think of it as an early wedding present."

Sarah blinked, looking equal parts suspicious and confused. "I'm sorry I don't follow?"

"It would make a lovely gown if you could ever find the right gent," he said with a rakish smile. Sarah eyed the dress and then him - she couldn't tell if he was teasing or if he was being perfectly serious and either way it was bizarre beyond belief.

"…okay, that's officially the weirdest thing that anybody's ever offered to buy me but I guess it can't hurt. Who knows? You might be saving me a few hundred dollars somewhere down the road."

"Both wise and prudent," he agreed with her decision.

_What's that playful little expression of his for?_ He conceded to let her help him out of the jacket and finally went to the counter to pay. There were different-colored sunglasses behind the glass counter case and a pair with red glass caught his eye. He had a rough idea of what they were for because he saw people wearing them constantly when it was too sunny but he'd never seen any like this; the glass was a deep crimson in elongated octagonal frames and there was a sideways ankh design that served for the earpieces! Fitting for one such as he. When Sarah saw what he was motioning the kid behind the counter to get him Sarah grabbed his arm and urgently whispered into his ear, "Those frames have iron - your face isn't protected!"

He looked aside at her. "I guessed as much but thank you for the warning." He took them from the boy with his still-leather-encased hands. Sarah could've sworn that the frames had suddenly flashed right before he tried them on. Whatever he'd just done had obviously kept them from hurting him but what? When he handed them back to the boy to add to his purchases the kid seemed surprised by the weight of the glasses, then quickly shook his head with his eyes closed for a moment as he rang it all up and bagged it. It was a bit suspicious that Jareth actually had that much cash on him but after the first bills were tested with a special pen the rest was quickly accepted and he was given his change and a receipt. "May I change in your dressing room and wear it all out?"

"Absolutely; go for it, man."

Sarah followed him back to the end of the store for what she dearly hoped was the final time; the music was starting to get to her. After a few minutes he came back out in the new outfit - coat, sunglasses and all - with only one bag, the one that had her dress in it.

"Aren't you hot in that jacket?"

"Not uncomfortably so. I think it's mostly for show; it's far too thin to offer any real protection." Sarah had to admit that he actually looked pretty sharp in spite of his own taste. Dark and sinister, but sharp. "Are you sure you won't try the dress on? Not even to humor me?"

Sarah looked at the bag with a bit of annoyance. He could be pestering at times. She guardedly met his eyes. "I'll try it on but I'm not wearing it."

"Of course not."

She hadn't seen him this passive in ages. What was it about this silly dress that had him so emotional? He was only passive when he didn't like his natural responses; he could be so reserved in his outward demeanor that at times it seemed alien. This was one of those odd moments of not human and Sarah hoped it would quickly pass as she grabbed the bag from him and went into the dressing room. A couple of lights shaped like torches that were held in place by faux-iron sconces were the only source of light in the red room. Sarah sat down on the bench and stripped off her t-shirt, and capris and slid the dress over her head standing up. She had to work a bit to get the bodice laces adjusted - somebody before her had knotted them in an odd place - but once it was on it was really fairly comfortable in spite of the pretence. And, to Sarah's dismay, incredibly flattering.

_He'll __force__ me to wear it_, she thought ruefully.

"May I see you?" His voice was normal again. Sarah took a deep breath and slowly drew the curtain aside, more than a little self-conscious. Jareth's breath audibly hitched in his throat as he drank in the sight of her.

"Absolutely lovely," he breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. He never could've been prepared for how good it looked on her. "A princess, once and always."

"Jareth," she looked away, embarrassed. Before she could protest he stepped into the dressing room with her, closing the curtain, turned her solidly-but-not-roughly to face the mirror and stepped in behind her a bit to one side, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders as if it were a pose for a formal portrait.

"What a pair we make," he joked conspiratorially with a wry smile. They really did look as different as day and night; light and darkness; good and evil. But it wasn't that simple anymore. Nothing had turned out to be as it had originally seemed. After a moment she stepped out of his grasp and back over to her pile of clothing, starting to struggle with the laces again. When he didn't move she turned back around.

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all," he smiled, crossing his arms.

"Out!"

He chuckled and strode back out into the store proper, closing the drape behind him. She was right that they had once seemed polar opposites and in many ways still were. _But what is the night without the __moon__? _At last she reappeared in her street clothes, dress in tow. "Ready to go?"

She nodded with a smirk. Stepping out of the store, Sarah fought back a wave of immediate apprehension - he stood out far too much for her comfort now. He was more or less a walking target. Jareth seemed rather blithe and unaware of the discreet stares they were receiving as they continued down the walk. At least until a woman wolf-whistled at him; he glanced back over the top of his sunglasses and flashed her a devastatingly gorgeous smile, surprising her to the point that she dropped a shopping bag.

"So much for trying to keep a low profile," Sarah sighed.

"You worry too much, love. I'm less conspicuous now as far as glamour goes."

"I could've gotten you human clothing ages ago if I'd known it was a problem!"

"Yes, but I didn't want it. This I can take with me."

Sarah just shook her head. "You're still really singling yourself out this way, J. You look like a vampire for crying out loud!"

He glanced at her and gave her a slow, teasing smile. She forgot to breathe for a moment as her pulse started pounding in automatic fight-or-flight response: he had _real __**fangs!**_ He genuinely laughed at her reaction and quickly ran his tongue across his top row of teeth, making the canines even length again. Sarah was still staring in shock but there was a frowning, creeping smile.

"Sometimes I can't tell if you're kidding or not."

"Oh come now, who outlawed fun?" he teased her. Or was that a flirt? Sarah quickly changed the topic.

"What did you do to those sunglasses anyway?"

He shrugged. "I just turned the metal to silver, same as all the buttons and whatnot on the rest of it," he said, making a sweeping gesture to the coat.

Her eyes went wide. "You're joking."

"No, why? Is it a problem?" He looked confused.

"I guess it isn't but I wouldn't be advertising it too loudly if I were you - you're worth knocking over all-of-a-sudden."

"You mean to tell me that precious metals are so rare in your world that someone would try to steal the buttons right off my jacket?"

"Yes."

He looked sobered as they walked on in silence. A skateboarder zipped by.

"It's called a skateboard," Sarah informed him, anticipating the question.

"Do you tire of my queries or can I ask you something?"

"It's like living with a little kid sometimes but shoot. What were you thinking about?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Is your country poor, Sarah?"

She looked at him in surprise. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, with what you just said about silver being so precious, it made me wonder, that's all. I've noticed that your money is mostly base metal and what isn't is paper and plastic. The currency where I am from is gold and silver - this little display would only be paramount to wearing a few coins. I thought nothing of it. To not even have enough copper for your smallest spare change…"

"Well, that is a very good question but I'm afraid it's not going to be an easy one to answer. There used to be a gold standard in the government to back up each of these cents; every last dollar bill was representative of a certain amount of gold in the treasury. The problem is the standard has been slipping for years due to a number of factors and our dollars have less and less worth and now people can buy on credit besides. Our own government owes billions to different countries all over the world and there's no way we can ever pay them off."

"So this entire nation is just waiting to collapse?"

"I hope not," Sarah sighed. "I hope we have a ways to go but with the economy being as shitty as it is and getting worse every year you never know."

Jareth proceeded to stare at the sidewalk in front of his boots. He seemed to be mulling something over.

"I know that look. The wheels are turning in there. What are you thinking about?"

"What would happen if a wealthy benefactor from a different country, say, a king, just decided to pay off your nation's debt - strictly as a matter of future goodwill?"

"It would never work," Sarah smiled, shaking her head, "but it's a nice thought."

"I just don't care for the idea of you living somewhere unstable."

"You think this is unstable? When was the last time you read the newspaper?"

"Sunday," he grimaced.

"Oh, right," she laughed.

"How quickly we forget."

"It's all a part of being human. Did you know that we forget at least 80% of everything that happens to us every day?"

He blinked in surprise. "No, I didn't." _How much has she forgotten about? It seems a crime not to remember one's life, especially when it is so short. Or those one loves. The processing mechanisms must not allow. But still. What will she forget about __me__? What has she already forgotten?_ He knew he would certainly think twice before administering the forgetting potion again - the creatures barely remembered anything as it was! There had to be a way he could let her stay in contact. "I was just thinking-"

"No kidding."

He glanced at her and smirked. "I was just thinking, you're going to have some power when this is over since I don't plan on stripping it all; I have to have some way of repaying you for all of this! Would you like me to teach you how to use it?"

"How involved is it?"

"Scrying crystals; nothing you haven't done before. You'll simply be learning to perform solo. You could even look in on me from time to time." It was left unspoken, he was too proud, but it was there: the silent plea not to forget him. Sarah nodded, putting her hand in the crook of his elbow, taking him by surprise.

"I think I'd like that."

They had walked almost the entire length of the mall (it was several city blocks long) and Jareth couldn't use the bus shuttle because the numerous metal railings were too easy to bump into. Sarah was about to turn them both around when she saw Corners Bookstore and decided to go in. Bright and busy as always, there were books even stacked up on the floor in places around the grand entryway there were so many. Sarah could've spent the entire day just in here; perusing the history and art sections, pouring over the new science magazines, maybe even looking for a new CD or two. She mostly listened to the public radio station in the car and it had exposed her to many different niche artists, mostly categorized as folk or world music, with some old jazz and classical thrown in just to even things out. Couple that with the motley group of musicians at the Gem and one arrived at a very diverse taste in listening material. Up until this point she had been so busy just corralling Jareth and trying to keep him preoccupied that it hadn't dawned on her that he might actually not care for what she was playing for him; he never said boo to any of her decisions but he never really seemed interested, either, beyond a vague curiosity. For a natural musician, it was strange and possibly condescending behavior, as if he thought this was all there was so there was no use in complaining.

The store was awfully big and the chances of them getting separated were surprisingly high. Knowing that both of them would be stuck there for hours if they started reading, she took his hand and led him up the broad, long staircase to the second floor. Jareth was doing his best not to openly gawk but this place was more vast than his own personal library and he couldn't help but think of all the new books with all the new learning and knowledge inside them that were lining every inch of wall and shelving in sight. Technical books that he could take home and _use_. Art books for his soul and his pleasure. Thorough and updated Aboveground history. And it was all there for the taking. But he didn't have long to take it in because before he could even get his bearings Sarah was dragging him upstairs by his left wrist with purpose in her eyes.

_Armies__ can't stop her when she has that look_, he thought, bemused. He allowed himself to be led past a myriad of shelves full of books - some lined up this direction, others lined up that (to be more aesthetically pleasing no doubt) until they came to a section of shorter, tiered wooden displays tightly bunched together, holding row upon row upon row of the little plastic cases that Jareth had been taught housed compact disks with recorded music. Sarah had at least the foresight to show him the difference between a CD, a DVD, a CD-Rom and which player was suitable for which so he wouldn't accidentally make someone go deaf.

"If you want to listen to something other than what I've got, now is your chance to get it. I'll just be on the other side over there," she turned around and pointed to the classical section near the back. "If you want to hear something to see if you'll like it or not, just put on a pair of headphones and scan the barcode on the back of the CD in question; it'll play you some samples."

_Goodness_, Jareth thought, watching her walk away before eying the shelves. She had been smiling as if she had guessed that this would be his weakness. _Which one, which one?_ They all seemed to be somewhat categorized with the last names of the musicians in alphabetical order. He decided to first look for this David Bowie fellow he kept hearing that he resembled - he should at least know whether the association was a compliment or an insult. He finally found him under the 'rock' category and actually blinked in shock as he picked up an album with his photograph on the cover: apart from the bright orange hair, he was near-mirror image! There were extremely subtle differences here and there but the likeness on the whole was so striking that it was almost _eerie_. Perhaps the man had a drop of Sidhe blood in him and against incredible odds all of the recessive traits had come to the fore at once. It was highly improbable but not unheard of. Extremely curious now, he gingerly put on the headphones as Sarah had instructed, inwardly cursing the fool who had invented steel (it was everywhere), and ran the lines on the back of the package under a small series of blinking red lines. Joyously blaring electric guitar greeted his ears as the man began to tackle all manner of strange material, from outer-space aliens to the occult to pop culture and back again with odd observations and viewpoints along the way. The voice was definitely listenable but it was much more human than his appearance; it was gravelly and a bit nasal but it seemed to suit the genre well enough, very distinctive. This Bowie person had been performing for decades and had about two-dozen albums. If the covers were anything to go by, he changed his look drastically every so often, even trying to pass himself off as a woman occasionally. _The completely unattainable urge to shape-shift probably_, he thought grimly. It was all good music on the whole - he was a very clever writer - but Jareth wasn't planning on getting a bunch so he just grabbed a 'best of' and moved on.

If the amount of reading material to be had in this world was staggering, the sheer volume and varieties of music was mind-boggling. It would take centuries just to listen to everything in this store. Jareth smiled. For once, time was on his side. Perhaps he didn't have to be so cut off from the world if he could managed a wireless internet hookup at his castle. Goodness knows there were piles of dead computers in that junk heap just outside the city; now that he was aware of what they truly were maybe he could get one of them to work. It was worth a try.

Knowing that he didn't have the luxury of time currently, he briefly skimmed through the different sections, trying to get at least a taste of each genre. Most of them had a very distinctive sound (and in spite of his personal conflicts with the Church he could see how Gospel music could inspire someone). The New Age category, however, had him completely stumped. The only unifying theme seemed to be that none of these artists had anything to do with each other. Yet here was otherworldly music; an Enya 'best of' quickly made it to the stack. The so-called 'fairy music' was a huge disappointment, though, far too cute and happy (he thought the 'heavy metal' category better suited the little beasts). Then something amazing caught his eye.

_Estampie? Surely not…_ But indeed it was, and even though the instruments were better and many of the tunes had new accompaniment it was enough to make him wax extremely nostalgic. He hadn't heard music like this since he was a young man; he had thought the last surviving manuscripts in the human world to have been lost to the sands of time, crumbled into so much dirt and debris like so many aspects of other human cultures that he had seen come and sadly watched passing. Yet here it was, right in his hands. Changed but surviving. Just like him. For some strange reason the album called Ondas was playing full songs instead of samples so he kept listening. By the time Sarah had picked out some Grieg and was ready to check out, he was still standing there. She walked over to get him and saw the emotion in his eyes; he looked extremely distant and a bit misty. After a moment he realized that she was there and he smiled, trying to blink it away.

"I simply cannot believe my ears, that this lasted to be performed again. Here, listen," and with that he took off the headphones and carefully positioned them on Sarah, adjusting the headpiece. The lengthy piece 'Reis Glorios' was over half-finished but was still building in its stately, atmospheric manner, the lady's voice soaring over the slow, warm accompaniment. The music was so rich that it alone conjured images: sunlight coming through the high windows of a fortress, bright with dust; tapestries hung over stone walls; banners in the wind; torches burning against the night. For a moment she thought she saw Jareth sitting on the rock sill of a large window with one leg carelessly draped over the edge, the other bent at the knee, pensively looking out over a forest; it was either dusk or dawn from the color of the sky. She blinked and looked at him, surprised. He simply nodded - she had seen true. One glimpse of the past. He hadn't changed at all. She thought her heart would pound out of her chest as he went to stroke her hair. With the music playing it was as if she could see into his very soul through his usually impenetrable eyes, as if he was saying 'this is who I really am'. Suddenly the song ended and she was stranded in the here and now, the moment over. She took off the headphones and placed them back over the wooden peg.

"It's very pretty but I don't understand a word she's saying," she smiled.

"It isn't the original arrangement either but it still works."

"Oh, I didn't say I didn't like it, I just wish-" She caught herself right before saying it. Jareth smiled conspiratorially.

"You're learning."

"Well, yeah, I don't have much of a choice. Were you about finished or did you want to look around a little more? I noticed that you made a whole circuit of this area."

"Sarah, I could spend years in here but there is one last thing before we go," he said, grabbing the entire Estampie repertoire. "Is there a decent history section?"

"It's only a fifth of the store," she smiled. "What were you interested in?"

"Recent history. From 1500 on to the present."

Sarah bit back a surprised laugh. "I'm not sure that's classified as 'recent' but there must be some textbooks - that would probably be your best bet for thorough. Let's go see what they have."

He grabbed the entire stack of Estampie and a couple of newer Mediaeval Baebes albums and they went back downstairs to the history section. While there were books devoted to different figures or even single battles, they did locate some ridiculously huge tomes as big as a college dictionary in the oversize section that started in 1492.

_That__ should cover everything_ Sarah thought wryly as she tried to pry the stupid thing out of the bookshelf - it weighed a _ton_.

"Allow me." Jareth put down his stack of CDs on the shelf and picked it up as if it were as light as a magazine. Balancing it in the crook of his elbow, he placed the CDs on top of it as Sarah just stood, shaking her head. "What? You couldn't lift it."

"It isn't that, it's just that you take so many things in the stride that…"

"…are out of the ordinary?"

She gave a laugh and nodded. "Clark Kent you aren't."

"Who?"

Sarah suddenly paled with a light gasp. "Oh crap, you don't know a thing about our culture, do you? How could I have been so stupid?! Come on!"

They ran back upstairs to the DVDs and Sarah began rapidly scanning the shelves, picking out a few: the original Superman with Christopher Reeve, West Side Story, a documentary on the Apollo moon landings, Forrest Gump. She already had some of the old classic musicals and Disney movies at home and she could borrow more material from the library but there were just certain references that couldn't go unchecked without raising suspicion. They finally checked out at one of the registers downstairs and left with their purchases. On the way home Sarah pulled into the drive-up of a La Fresca Organic Coffee and Juice Bar and ordered a large cup of joe, black - then got a small mocha at Jareth's insistence. Well, sort of.

"But I wanted to try what you're having!"

"Jareth, coffee is an acquired taste like alcohol: the first time you have it you hate it. I ordered yours mixed with chocolate, milk, and sugar; you'll probably like it better that way. You can have first sip of mine but consider yourself warned." She pulled up to the window, paid the lady at the register, and set the drinks in the car cupholders. Jareth picked up Sarah's and took the promised sip - and immediately grimaced at the bitterness.

"This is awful!" he declared, putting it back down. "How on earth can you drink that?!"

"I told you," Sarah laughed, "black coffee isn't for all tastes. Yours should be a little safer."

Not having any idea what to expect _now_, Jareth tentatively tasted his own…and was pleasantly surprised. It had a rich, sweet, earthy taste…with a bitter after flavor. But it wasn't as offensive as the stuff was plain. He proceeded to insist on listening to the rest of the Estampie album _Ondas_ for the remainder of the trip and much to Sarah's amusement he sort of danced along in the car seat with his eyes closed. At last they got back to the small apartment complex and hauled everything up the stairs and inside. Sarah started washing and chopping vegetables for a casserole.

"Would you care for some help?"

"Nope, it's my turn," she grinned. "Why don't you go pick out a movie." He went to the living room and started digging through the bag of DVDs on the couch.

"What's this West Side Story about?"

"Updated Romeo and Juliet."

"Hmm, sounds interesting. Would you mind seeing it tonight?"

"No, that's fine." _Guess we'll start with the familiar stuff,_ Sarah thought. _I still can't quite believe that he was around for the real thing! I wonder if he ever saw any of those staged…_ Unfortunately with her mind in one place and her chopping hand in another, she missed the end of the carrot she was quickly cutting into thin circles and got her pointer finger instead. She let out a yelp of pain and surprise and immediately thrust it into her mouth out of habit. And suddenly had a horrible idea. She pulled it back out to look; it wasn't as bad as it could've been but it was still pretty deep and bleeding a lot. Jareth was immediately at her side.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she said, washing it under cold water with soap, "just daydreaming at the wrong time and I accidentally cut myself." She went to the bathroom to get a bandage but the idea was still turning over in her brain; she couldn't shake it, it just wouldn't let go. _It might actually __work_. She didn't put any ointment on it, just in case. Feeling jittery, she walked back to the kitchen to find _all_ of the vegetables chopped and Jareth sautéing them. "Oh really, you didn't have to do all that!"

"Are we going to be more careful?"

She let out an exasperated sigh rolling her eyes. "Yes."

He glanced over to her with a quiet little smile and handed her the wooden spoon. She started stirring then suddenly stopped, moving the skillet over and turning off the burner. He was still there, worriedly watching. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, leaning on the oven handle.

"I have to ask you something."

"Would you care to sit down?"

She immediately nodded, suddenly feeling very small. He took both of her hands and gently clasped them in his, leading her to the couch. They both sat simultaneously. He removed his small fashion glasses and set them on the coffee table before holding her hands once more, massaging her palms with the thick of his thumbs. It felt _wonderful_ and from the sparkle in his eyes it looked like he knew it.

"Now, what's on your mind?" he asked quietly.

_You sure know how to __distract__ a girl,_ Sarah thought, now ruing what she had to say because it would totally ruin the moment. "Have you seen any of the original Shakespeare performances?"

He laughed. "A few. Titus Andronicus. Macbeth. A Midsummer Night's Dream," he smiled, "but I get the feeling there was more than that." His expression had turned serious. There was no escaping this. She closed her eyes.

"Jareth?"

"Yes?"

"Are …are any of your kind…oh I can't say it!"

"Should I just look?" he prompted gently. She quickly shook her head no.

"Vampires?" she managed to blurt out. His thumbs immediately stopped and she opened her eyes, daring to glance at him. He gave a sad sigh and swallowed. This did not bode well.

"Allow me to start by stating that, to the best of my knowledge, I am not. With that said, yes, but it is an extremely individual trait. Either one is or one isn't and the degree of dependence varies as well. The urge usually appears during the nymph stage and thank the gods the savage days are behind us. In my grandsire's day the first kill was the rite of adulthood whether one had any desire for human blood or no. Society has greatly reformed since then and, with the odd masochist aside, the mortals involved are merely donors now. A feeding sidhe usually has several that they can call upon at healthy intervals in return for some kind of service. I've heard of everything from money to inspiration being used in exchange and the arrangements that seem to last longest are those that are most amiable to the donor. In your vernacular, they're the ones calling the shots," he smirked. "If I remember correctly, Keats was a beneficiary of just such an arrangement. His was a woman." He looked down for a moment, thinking. "Actually, the majority of them _are_ female, but nobody can figure out why. There's no genetic reason for such a differentiation in gender. The closest thing we have to an answer lies in reproduction: those who feed seem to be more fertile on the whole than those who do not. It is even craved universally during pregnancy. It is as if there is some vital nutrient that is completely alien to our world and is only found in this one source…"

Sarah sat there, speechless in shock, fear, revulsion, and amazement. After hearing that speech, she certainly wasn't hungry now.

"I'm sorry if that was upsetting for you to hear but you asked to always have the truth." _And the truth hurts like __hell__, _he thought regretfully. She didn't want to pursue this one step further but she knew it was now or never - she'd never have the nerve to do this again.

"Do you just get nutrients when you do that or do you get energy, too?"

Jareth's eyes widened in alarm as he realized just what she was considering.

"No, Sarah! I forbid you to toy with this; it's much too dangerous!"

"But why? You just said you weren't. We're running out of options, J. It's something we haven't tried."

"And there's a damn good reason! Do you have any idea what you are asking me to visit upon you?"

"No, I _don't_! Why don't you just spare me the theatrics and just tell me why this doesn't work!"

Jareth took a deep breath and began again more calmly. "I told you that it most often surfaces during the nymph stage."

"Yes," Sarah replied uneasily.

"The other time is when a sidhe first begins to age."

Sarah suddenly gasped in comprehension. "Your age!"

He nodded gravely. "I have never tasted human blood. I cannot say with certainty that this would not be the catalyst. The first time the urge hits one, instinct overrides everything else and the experience can be quite violent. A feeding sidhe has remarkable strength; it can take as many as four adult sidhe to restrain one in this state. Nearly all of the deaths associated with the activity now are a direct result of lack of intervention with a first-timer: if left unchecked they can actually fail to realize that they are killing the poor mortal until up to an hour after the event with almost no recollection of what happened. I simply cannot allow even the chance."

Sarah sighed dejectedly, sitting back into the couch. _So much for __that__ brilliant idea_.

Jareth knew in his heart he was doing the right thing here in dissuading her from trying this course of action… but why was he feeling more energy just talking about it? He was experiencing no craving whatsoever. Was this how it was the first time? A slow buildup to the berserker state? _Not this. __Anything__ but this_, he silently pleaded to whoever might be listening.

Sarah sighed. "I know that must've sounded crazy but I was just thinking…I mean, sure, we've made progress since you've been here but it's all been really, really slow. All except the night we were at that gallery and you startled and just took some. I've offered to do it again and again and you keep refusing but I'm seriously starting to believe that this…" She shook her head. "I don't know, what do you think?"

"I think that you're playing with fire, love," he responded gravely. His gaze dropped to their hands. Her injured finger. "But I'm afraid you might actually be right." He tentatively met her eyes again. Her eyebrows shot up and she felt a tremor of fear. Had he just agreed to do it anyway? He felt her pulse quicken, felt the adrenaline on her skin and for the first time in a very long time he momentarily despised what he was. There had to be a way to safeguard her. He would have to plan this carefully. A time limit, a safety release… "Do you have a portable timing device that sounds when the set time is up?"

"My cellphone."

His eyes were serious. "Get it."

Sarah nervously pulled her purse over and got it out.

"Set it for one minute precisely and not a second more. Do not start it until I do."

She carefully punched in the time without hitting the start button. Without prompting she tore off the bandaid quickly, wincing; it was soaked and the cut was still bleeding slightly.

"Now, this is how this is going to work: we are going to try this for one minute. If I do not immediately stop when the timer sounds or if I start getting rough and try to bite you elsewhere before time, you are to wish me away to the Federation of the Leanaan Sidhe, do you understand? There I will answer to the authorities for my actions."

"But what about the-"

"Your safety is paramount here. I would rather be deposed and imprisoned than have you die by my hand."

His hand was held out, waiting for hers. He was trying to keep it in check but there was a great deal of emotion in his eyes: regret, fear, sympathy, and something soft he couldn't quite name. She swallowed and steeled her nerves, tentatively placing her had in his open, upturned one. He gently caught it with both hands and brought it up to his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, seemingly trying to strengthen his own resolve. She had the cellphone in her free hand, ready. But when he opened his eyes again, they were hot with _desire_. To her complete surprise he brought her wrist to his lips and lightly tasted her pulse point, eyes locked and she gasped at the unexpected wave of pleasure. He trailed the very tip of his tongue up to the heel of her palm and began a line of impassioned kissed up to the top of her finger, stopping before he reached the cut, leaving her breathless. He looked at her from underneath his bright eyelids.

"Forgive me, Sarah," he breathed.

And with that he gently enveloped the tip of her finger and began to suckle the wound. Sarah almost forgot to hit the button but she remembered just in time. While she couldn't deny there was something strangely exciting about having her finger in Jareth's mouth, there was this welling feeling that she had just lit a bomb and she was hoping that the fuse was very long. This simple almost mundane act of vampirism was a far cry from the Hollywood version. There was still something sickening about it that didn't sit well but it almost didn't even hurt. She had weakened at first but she felt fine now and put it down to nerves.

_28...27...so far so good…_ Unfortunately Sarah's observation had been completely accurate. Jareth received an incredible boost for about three seconds and then it dropped to almost nothing. But that was currently the least of his problems. He could feel something beginning to stir within him, something so deep beneath the surface that he had never even realized that it was there. Something that _liked_ this taste.

_You can't have her! She's far too precious! _he hissed back at it and to his profound relief it simply turned over and slumbered on and the flavor went bitter once more. Surely this ordeal had to be over soon. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out against himself like this.

_5...4...3...2...1..._ A cheery little melody greeted his ears and he immediately took her finger out of his mouth, sinking back in relief.

"How are you, love?"

"Fine."

He nodded. "That's about how much it did," he pronounced flatly.

Her look of shock immediately registered. "Are you serious?!"

"I'm afraid so. At any rate, it's very strange. How could so much only enact so little?"

"Well I don't have a clue - it doesn't even make any sense!"

"I know! That's just it! …unless…"

"Unless what?"

Jareth sighed. "Unless it runs on intention alone."

Sarah blinked. "But that puts us right back at square one! No wait, that can't be the whole story because I would love for nothing more than to be able to return you and you're still sitting here. Is there anything else that we might be overlooking here? Anything else that could potentially effect this? Anything? Think! There's always some sort of bizarre trick to these things in all the old stories."

Jareth had to concede that she might be onto something; in her case she had had to recite lines from a specific play that he had created no less! How obscure was that! But there wasn't anything literary that could possibly have any bearing on their current situation - no myths, no stories, no ballads. The only way there could be a holdup is if he'd magically locked himself into the situation somehow in a way that had nothing to do with Sarah championing the Labyrinth. He was almost beginning to get a headache when suddenly it was as if a crystal bell had sounded. **He **_**had!**_ Right at the very end during Sarah's moment of power he foolishly spoke to try to distract her; everything was on the line, if only he could've kept her from remembering within the last six seconds he would've won. But she remembered, and in doing so closed in his hasty, thoughtless remarks as if they were words of power also - effectively trapping him until they were fulfilled. 'Just let me rule you. Fear me, love me, do as I say…' It almost mimicked the sidhe handfasting vows! "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

"What is it? Did you remember something?"

He gave a mirthless little laugh. "I hope you don't mind having a lodger, dear," he sighed, looking straight ahead. "It looks like we're in for the long run."

"Oh Jareth, I'm so sorry," she said, putting her hand on his. He looked at the extreme sympathy on her face and genuinely laughed warmly.

"I can think of many a worse fate than being stuck with you," he quirked a little smile. "I guess theoretically-speaking it isn't entirely impossible. Let's just say that it's highly improbable."

"Like hell freezing over."

"…not that improbable."

"I can't help you if you won't even tell me what it is!"

"It wouldn't help if you knew, love. Not to worry, it's not like we're giving up. Morgan has yet to contact me but when she does I'm going to ask her to look through our books of law to see if there is an escape clause for this kind of situation. Now then…"

Sarah watched curiously as Jareth raised his left palm to his amulet. Without any warning he took the piece of jewelry in his free hand and used one of the end tips like a knife, slashing it open, only wincing slightly from the quick pain.

"Jareth!"

"It's all right," he said calmly. A white liquid had oozed from the wound and he carefully scraped off a bit of it with the side of the amulet. To Sarah's amazement the cut healed up in mere seconds before her very eyes. There was no trace that it had ever existed at all. "Let's see that finger of yours."

"What is that?"

"Just a little blood. Our rate of cellular regeneration is what allows us to transform and live for thousands of years. I'm no healer, Sarah, but this is standard aid for one not of our species."

"It's safe mixing blood that different?"

He shrugged. "Safe enough. The cells spend themselves very quickly. Now if I may before this dries." He took her hand in his and carefully coated the entire area with the thick, sticky substance. There was an immediate cool sensation as it completely seeped in, quickly followed by the most incredible itching Sarah had ever experienced in her life. She gritted her teeth to try to withstand it but it was almost too much. Jareth caught both of her wrists, firmly keeping her hands apart. "Don't scratch, love, it's almost over," he crooned. Within the next second the itching ceased and she cried out in blessed relief. He released her and she looked down at her hand: it was perfectly healed, not even a light scar.

"Thank you…I _think_…" she said, looking a bit unsure about what had just happened.

"It's the very least I could do; you never set terms of payment."

She blinked in surprise. "But it was just an experiment!"

"And I appreciate the generous sentiment but never give your lifeblood lightly, never."

Sarah looked down at her lap, thinking something over. "Jareth?"

"Yes?"

She blushed very lightly but he still saw it. "Why did you kiss me?"

"I suppose I had hoped that if I could distract you even if only momentarily perhaps you would not be so afraid." A ridiculously loud clap of thunder crashed right above them, making Sarah jump, but Jareth seemed to know what was going on as he yelled at the ceiling. "All right! And I'd _wanted to_! Am I not allowed _any_ creative license anymore?!" He suddenly flinched in pain, leaning forward.

"JARETH!"

But the tension in the room was gone as he rubbed the back of his sore head, slowly shaking it. "I guess not."

"What just happened?! Are you okay?"

He nodded assent. "Take a wild guess."

"…that was the Court?!"

He nodded again, looking a bit worn, sighing. "Apparently they aren't going to tolerate any more polite beating-about-the-bush." He held her eyes for a moment. "I can't lie. I am attracted to you, Sarah. You are beautiful as well as intelligent and you can breathe fire as well as you take it," he lightly teased her. She smiled self-consciously, feeling all of his attention. There were butterflies in her stomach. But her logical mind had to break in and burst her bubble. She sighed.

"Jareth…how could it ever work? I mean, besides the obvious differences you'll eventually go away and I'll never see you again."

His face was impassive as he got up from the couch. She hoped she hadn't hurt him too badly. It wasn't like she hadn't thought of it herself but it just didn't wash in the end. There was no reason to start something that was doomed from the very beginning.

"No doubt you're right. You're a practical girl." _Fantasies used to hold such sway over you. Oh Sarah, what's __happened__ to you? _He made his way over to the computer terminal and logged onto the internet. "But you have given me an idea in a truly roundabout sort of way."

"What?"

"I haven't even begun to utilize my devotees as I potentially could."

"Oh Jareth, not more fangirls!" she groaned.

"Don't slight them, Sarah" he admonished her. "They are the main reason that I'm sitting here comfortably in a civilized home instead of living off of mice in a park." He sat there typing for a moment, intently studying the search list on the screen for a prospective group of followers that most closely resembled a cult when he suddenly remembered dinner out of the blue and gasped, looking over his shoulder at her.

"Sarah, are you still hungry?"

"Not really," she said, shakily getting up. He was instantly on his feet and walking to the end table. He picked up the phone and hit one of the speed-dial options to Sarah's bewilderment. _I never programmed __any__ of those - __he__ must have! _He began talking in his most social tone.

"Hello? Yes, I'd like a number 47 with the steamed rice and a large egg drop soup for delivery."

"Jareth, this is ridiculous, I'm not even sick!" she laughed.

"Could you wait a moment please?" he covered the receiver with his hand, looking at her with a teasing seriousness. "You know the rule, Sarah: no one is allowed to go hungry under this roof even if they _want_ to. We can reuse the vegetables you just prepared for the soup." He uncovered the receiver with a cocky smirk. "Are you still there? Good, this will be in cash…"

She just shook her head with a reluctantly growing smile as he proceeded to rattle off her address and apartment number as if he'd known them forever.


	13. And Justice for All

Chapter 13 - And Justice for All

Morgan had been waiting nearly two-and-a-half hours to get a hearing before the High Court. In this building status or species meant absolutely nothing at all - all comers were treated equally so the line usually sprawled out the door in serpentine fashion. Out on the steps leading up to the High Court Complex it was common practice to buy a better place in line but armed guards at the doors stopped it from going on indoors; the Guard of the Federation were the only beings allowed to carry iron. She would've preferred not to be here at all, stuffed between gnomes and dwarves and tiny biting flower fairies along with a few others of her own race from all walks of life, with the only assurance being that they would be heard sometime between now and the rest of eternity. Morgan sighed and shifted feet again; she wasn't about to soil her pearl-highlighted, deep-cut black velvet dress by sitting on the dusty, dirty floor. She smoothed down her long red hair.

_At least in the old days the High King could finish his business in half a day's time without sending anyone away empty-handed. Back when our titles actually __meant__ something._ It was one thing to frequent the High City for influential friends, lovers, and the freshest tidbits of gossip, and many people did, Morgan included. It was quite another matter to try to avail oneself of the judicial system. She had deliberately avoided the High Court at all costs, even paying off possible informants and taking bribes in turn to keep the peace without interference. But today was different. Jareth was in serious trouble and instead of trying to contact one of his brothers he had chosen her to be his eyes and ears and hands in the Underground. It was a task she was most certainly capable of but that choice alone made her worry. Jareth didn't like receiving help from anyone for any reason at all, and especially not from a woman. He must've gone through an awful lot to get to this point.

It was old news that he had gone missing years ago, leaving the Labyrinth in chaos and uproar but after what was deemed a healthy length of time he was officially pronounced dead; it was inconceivable that a sidhe could survive in the human world, or any other for that matter, for several months unaided. The last envoy sent to the Aboveground came back half-dead from iron poisoning in only three hours time. It seemed so crazy that Jareth could be dead, though; he was simply too stubborn to die, she thought with a rueful smirk. And then came his life signal out of the blue, giving his precise location: he had been Aboveground after all! But he had made no further attempt to contact her, which was initially disturbing - his power was obviously very weak. Why didn't he just wish himself back? So she did the only thing she could do - sent out a beacon of her own in hopes of making a temporary communication channel. Which had succeeded just last night so here she was. At least she was finally next.

A tiny fairy was exiting the judging chamber - the little beast hissed at her and streaked away laughing. _Lovely_, she thought; the only reason they were even allowed there was because of their extraordinary talent with the gardens and plants. She heard herself announced and the door to the right finally opened just enough that she could walk through it. There was no such thing as a grand entrance here - one had to bow and scrape like the lowliest peasant to receive any favor from the judges at all and Morgan was doing her best to act the part although her jaw was slightly clenched. The room was set up like a cross between an old theater and an arena with the judges seated imposingly high in front and the spectators seated at the sides in three levels. Attendance to such proceeding was purely optional but many used it as a means of political maneuvering, either seeing or being seen by others there or the petitioner. Others were simply there for the show. And a show it was; it had been getting worse over the centuries. The judges held their positions for life - not one of them had been replaced since their stationing after the War of the Houses and it did wonders for their egos, sense of entitlement, and self-importance. All fifteen of them bowed in slight without even bothering to stand as they once had.

_May the spirit of our father curse this ridiculous farce,_ she thought as she finally rose. They were all male, grey-haired sidhe, groomed to look perfectly identical as if they didn't look imposing enough. No one could even speak their names; they were The Fifteen and they claimed to act as One. The man in the center addressed her.

"Lady Morgan Ravensong," he slowly savored the name, almost as if taunting her, "it has been many moons indeed since you last chose to grace us with your presence."

"Nearly seven centuries, milord," the scribe on the floor rang out.

"Yes," the judge steepled his fingers, smiling predatorily, "it would seem that you do not like us." There were rumors of people being sentenced for such and lesser 'offenses' in recent years. Morgan knew that she was treading dangerous ground but she wasn't about to let this bunch of aging bullies intimidate her!

"Of course not, my lords," she oozed saccharinely, forcing a smile, "it's just that some of us live so well within the boundaries of the law that we have no need to go to court."

He seemed satisfied. She dropped the smile.

"But today I must plead my rights as a citizen of the Federation in full."

A murmur went through the crowd.

"Silence! Explain yourself."

"I have just received communication from the Goblin King."

The room was in immediate uproar; the story of Jareth's disappearance was infamous.

"Quiet before I sentence the lot of you to a week's community service!" the judge yelled at the room in general. That calmed things down in a hurry. "Now then, do tell us what you would wish us to do. What did he say? Leave nothing out."

"It was a very short communication, as if he had lost quite a deal of his power and could do no more." She closed her eyes. "It is the kind we used when we played as children, what we were taught for emergencies: location, health and anything else possible." She looked up at them again with hardened purpose. "He is Aboveground, gentlemen. The iron is interfering with what abilities he has left. But the strange thing is he is gaining power!"

"But, Lady Ravensong, that is impossible!"

"Yes, I know, so I asked him again and got the same response! His vitals correspond! He is gaining his power _back_."

The judge actually stopped to make a note. "Most curious. Do continue."

"Other than his current predicament he is quite well. There is a roof of sorts over his head and he doesn't hunger. There was something about who he was staying with but it all just came across as an incoherent jumble and we had to abandon it; it was proving difficult for him to sustain the bond, he was draining far too quickly. One word he managed to get across right before the link was severed: clause."

"Clause?"

"There is no doubt in my mind that he is referring to the legendary escape clauses buried within our books of law. My request is to visit the Library of the Federation and without delay. His fleeting glimpses of my memory may be his only chance of returning home alive to his kingdom and his family."

"Is that your full petition?"

"Yes it is, my lord." She nearly jumped as the herald on the floor began to shout from only a few feet behind her.

"The Lady Morgan Ravensong has finished her petition! The floor is now open to debate, deliberation and contest," he declared and struck the small copper gong he held in his hand. She felt the Petitioner's Chair appear behind the backs of her legs and sat down in relief. It was an exact replica of the stuffed leather chairs where the judges sat - another symbol of 'equality' - but it had obviously seen better days; the stuffing was starting to show through the right-hand side of the seat as if a few hundred people had dug in their nails there, nervously awaiting their fate.

The other fourteen judges could now openly argue the case in front of the whole room. This was usually the entertaining part for the audience (Morgan didn't even think of them as a jury; they hadn't been utilized as one since the first century of the Federation). The nameless Lords had no respect for persons and often insulted the subject, the petitioner or both without any thought for social consequence. Matters which had been carefully hidden for years were dragged into the light of day as it pleased the Court; it was as if the very walls had had ears for many, many years. The Court's resources were never spoken of out of fear of trodding on toes but it had been long-suspected that the Book of Shadows of the High Kings still existed and was being secretly employed by the fifteen men seated before her.

_Oh shit on them already,_ she thought, _there's hardly anything that they could possibly say to change what __anyone__ thinks of either of us __now__._

The one second to the left began. "While Lady Ravensong here is a classic example of a reformed royal and an upstanding member of society, may the Court be reminded that her elder brother Jareth is most certainly _not_ to put it mildly. I move to deny the petitioner's request. If he has survived this long on Earth, may he long so remain."

"I second."

"Now wait just a minute, gentlemen! Aren't you forgetting Jareth's kingdom? What is to be done with the Goblin Lands?"

"It can be divided equally amongst the surrounding kingdoms, the Labyrinth dismantled. The land can finally be put to a decent use."

"Oh be serious! You honestly propose to divide the Labyrinth, a structure that holds not only lives but life and even a limited sense of consciousness? Do you realize how difficult it would be to control?"

"The current Goblin King is in no condition to control it at all."

"Indeed."

"Even if we conjure him back, he may not even be fit to rule and I loathe the thought of _him_ running free with nothing to do but cause trouble."

"But what of the goblins? There's a reason they're there. It takes a devious mind to anticipate and control others of a similar character. It was decided that Lord Ravensong was ideal for the position. I don't think that's changed."

"The only reason Jareth has any bearing at all is because the land and creatures in question were so undesirable that no one contested the late High Bastard's will."

Morgan had been gritting her teeth, trying to maintain a coolly passive exterior but the final comment that judge #12 made finally got under her skin and she shot out of her chair.

"Now look here, you old wretch! How dare a peasant upstart like youcall _my father_-"

"**SILENCE!**" screamed the judge in the center. Morgan actually felt her vocal chords constrict; she couldn't speak! The judge sighed. "If I have another outburst from you, I will be forced by the law to throw you into this building's oubliette for five days for contempt of court, is that _clear_ Lady Ravensong?"

All she could do was nod yes, shakily sitting back down. She saw his right shoulder shift slightly and she was suddenly released; he must've made a one-handed symbol under the table, she reflected. She'd only heard stories of the old methods of controlling another sidhe but she had never seen this one in practice, let alone experienced it! Suddenly ill at ease, she did her best to act demure and unassuming. The fourth judge looked down at her but continued to address his peers.

"I believe what Lady Ravensong was passionately trying to convey just now was that while Dalin was a ruthless tyrant…he was also a doting husband and a caring father."

Morgan thought her jaw would drop at the sight of momentary regret on the judge's face. Had he known him?! But the moment was over and he turned back to face the judges.

"But what is done had to be done and it is long finished. We are speaking of Jareth now. If he cannot rule, what is to be done with him?"

The fifteenth judge, who had been listening quietly to the banter, presently spoke.

"Gentlemen, I hold no more love for Lord Ravensong than any of you but I believe we run an even greater risk stranding him aboveground. In the worst-case scenario he could die and a mortal discover the body. Do you realize how quickly they would know he isn't human? All he would have to do is bleed! The last thing we need to be dealing with is more human problems than we already have. I motion to favor Lady Ravensong's petition. We can see what kind of condition he is in when he gets here but getting him here is vital at this point."

"I second."

"All those in favor say 'aye'."

"**AYE!" **The room rang with their voices. It was unanimous. The judge in the center spoke.

"Rise, Lady Ravensong." As she did so the chair disappeared again. "We are honoring your request but you must keep us informed of any further communications you receive so that we may better assist you. When you adjourn back into the Waiting Chamber you will find a small bench on the far wall situated between two doors. Sit there and the caretaker of the Library will be signaled to assist you at his earliest convenience."

"I will keep in touch. Thank you, my Lords."

"May we continue to support one another as brothers and sisters of One Family forever!" It was the traditional ending statement of the Court.

_Some family_, she thought as she bowed and scraped her way to the door to the left and exited the room. The line was the exact same length as ever. A dwarf with a hefty tool belt was entering the Judging Chamber. She found the bench immediately - it was the only place to sit in the entire room and moreover it hadn't been there before. If there had been more than one she would've been lost; there were so many doors in the corridor that ran past the Judging Chamber that she could scarcely count them, yet none were marked and all were locked. She crossed the room to her appointed place and sat, feeling a light burst of magic that signaled her presence as she did so. With nothing else to do she watched the people in line. Under any other circumstances she would've retrieved a book from home but the building itself put a damper on magic use.

_Poor babies, are we afraid of a little insurrection?_ she mused. Apparently. It was depressingly unlikely but the fact that they were actually this paranoid gave her hope that one day things would change for the better. Then again that kind of thinking was precisely what had landed them all here in the first place. Maybe it really was for the best to simply try to maintain the status quo; things could always be worse.

It didn't seem to matter how many years went by, it always seemed strange to her to see so many different creatures all stuck together in the same predicament. At least the smaller ones were free to speak to one another. Morgan almost envied them; it wasn't easy being one of the most powerful beings in the room. Different social standards applied to sidhe; they were expected not to speak to any but their own kind unless it was absolutely necessary, such was the importance of their very existence. That alone wasn't easy because there were so few of them left: the War of the Houses had nearly decimated the species because so few men had returned home. Due to difficulty of reproduction their numbers had dwindled to several hundred at best, with barely a tenth of those being from the old upper class. If there wasn't miraculous intervention and soon, the species would die out. To date, no one had been desperate enough to dilute the breed but tests were scheduled to use humans from the colony the very hour the number dropped below one hundred. Magic they had not but they were surprisingly compatible, being the highest physical beings of their own world. Perhaps it was so in all the worlds but that talk was best left to theologians.

Suddenly a familiar tug at her consciousness derailed her train of thought, a mechanical yet gentle '_Greetings, sister._' She looked up and immediately picked Kavin out of the line; he was watching her with his usual detached interest. Of all of Dalin's children, the one that resembled most closely his father was the only one who had never known him. With his thick-boned figure, harshly chiseled face and short, spiky fire-red hair, he looked like the poltergeist of the old High King. His clothing was a little elegant simply due to his fortune but his personal taste was uniformly utilitarian; outward appearances held almost no interest for him. She smiled in return, pulling a small calling card out of the left wrist sleeve of her dress and got up, affixing it to the seat so her presence would still be known, walking over to him. While Kavin had no heart nor any emotions at all, he cared for people in his own strange way, the way one carefully handles a creature one is studying. He wasn't smiling - he never smiled - but his expression was neither unkind. He addressed her.

"What brings you here? I thought you avoided this place like the plague."

Morgan tried to contain herself. "…I found Jareth. We nearly talked last night. I'm trying to bring him home but I have to visit the Library."

Kavin's eyebrows lifted above his deadpan, steel-grey eyes. "Most interesting. Can I be of any assistance?"

"I'm not sure. I have to find the escape clauses and try to contact him again."

"Then I can help you. The law section is on the fifth floor, row 178 on the left-hand side on top; force the steward to bring a ladder, he won't do it on his own. I doubt he'd even take you to the correct floor; he hates ex-royals. I once wasted the better part of a week getting the run-around in there looking for ground ownership records."

"Thank you, Kavin."

"No need; I am your brother, am I not?"

She smiled at his simple logic. "Most are not as honorable as you."

"It makes no sense, though; being honorable ensures that others will return my favors when I call on them."

"I hope it shall always be so. What brings you here today?"

"More of the same. I have to override a backward-thinking old noble who doesn't want copper pipes in his house for water. I'm moving to make indoor plumbing a universal ordinance. It is ludicrous that humans aboveground have this simple thing and we do not. I was also going to get permission to build Jareth his birthday present. 2,000 is sort of important in our society and with his being Goblin King I was thinking of building something large and destructive."

It was all Morgan could do to not laugh aloud, biting her lip, trying to control her merriment.

"I just said something amusing, didn't I?"

"Yes, I was just imagining the ensuing mayhem with those ridiculous creatures he claims to govern. He really can't - mostly he just keeps them from escaping," she said, the smile leaking on one side of her face. A look of sudden comprehension overtook his features and he solemnly nodded.

"That makes sense but I lack the imagination to come to such conclusions myself. It's frustrating when no one will explain to me why what I just said is so funny while everyone else clearly enjoys a joke at my expense."

"They just don't understand you," Morgan said with a sympathetic, familiar smile. Kavin's eyes went wide and he gasped like he was suddenly struck with an idea.

"It is entirely possible! I do have a 380 point I.Q. by the human test." Subtlety was always lost on him but Morgan wasn't about to burst his bubble; this was as close to happy as he got.

"I thought it was only 320."

"I found an updated copy and scored higher."

"Well, congratulations!"

"Thank you, I intend to put it to good use."

"I'm sure you do." The petitioners ahead of him had gone through rather quickly - check that, some of them hadn't come back out, that was always a bad sign. It was his turn already. She could hear him being announced inside.

"Lord Kavin Ravensong…again…"

She was glad that he didn't understand their biting sarcasm; such petty nastiness always went right over his mechanical head.

"Good luck," she whispered. '_And to you, sister. Remember my offer,_' she heard him say as clear as a bell in her mind as he strode into the room completely unabashed and gave his signature short, stiff bow. The door closed.

"Lady Morgan Ravensong?"

Morgan turned quickly to see who had addressed her and felt her knees almost give out on her. It was obviously the library steward but she could scarcely believe her eyes: it was a gryphon! He sat up on his hind lion's legs with his mighty wings folded behind him. Her calling card was skewered on a foreclaw and his giant eagle's head was sharply scanning the room for her. She swallowed hard. There were very few things indeed in the world which Morgan was actually afraid of and this was one of them. Gryphons were infamous for asking people impossible riddles, holding the victim in thrall with their wild, penetrating, predatory stare. Over 90% of the time the poor person was unable to answer and was devoured on the spot. The gryphon never begrudged the few who were lucky enough to be wiser or cleverer than itself, however, and usually gave them a priceless bauble out of the creature's own hoard of treasure as reward for surviving the ordeal. Even though these individuals invariably pawned the trinkets and lived in luxury for the rest of their lives, the chances of coming away unscathed were so slim that it simply wasn't worth the risk. Humans were a favorite prey but gryphons weren't picky eaters and it was a well-known fact that many were perfectly capable of taking down a full-grown sidhe if they could catch one by surprise. The creatures had an insatiable thirst for knowledge so in retrospect she knew she shouldn't have been as shocked as she had been to find him here; in all probability he was truly the most capable librarian they could find! But it was dangerous keeping such a creature in the city. Before her mind started speculating who they were feeding him she quickly shoved the thought away and started to cross the room to him.

"I am she."

His yellow eagle eyes instantly flicked to her face, making a pit in her stomach. She could swear he was smiling.

"Ah, now how can I be certain that it's you?" he taunted, pointing a claw. "There are so many people in this grand, old hall and no one sitting in my chair-"

She raised her left arm and her calling card flew into her hand as quickly as if it been attached to a rubber string. His beak parted involuntarily. To be able to pull off a stunt like that in a place so warded against magic was an incredible display of strength. She smiled a knowing smile, pushing the card back up her sleeve. Two could play at this game. The gryphon regarded her sideways, knowing he'd been had.

"At least you don't waste paper," he grumbled. "This way."

He got up and padded over to the door to the left of the chair. Even though he was down on all fours he was still enormous; he came all the way up to Morgan's waist. The door opened automatically for them and she followed him inside. And gasped. The Library of the Federation was rumored to be beautiful but the few people who had been allowed inside were unable to accurately describe it's magnificence. It looked less like a library and more like a temple. The entire structure was round with a large atrium-style opening in the center, showered in colored light from the stained glass window in the ceiling high above it. Fluted columns of solid lapis lazuli wrapped in gold leaves lined each of the levels, the shelving vaguely visible through the clear quartz flooring. The ground floor appeared to be marble and inscribed around the circle of the base in the old sidhe tongue was the slogan of the Federation, emblazoned in gold, set into the floor. The entire place just screamed power and might and for the first time in many years Morgan felt very small for a moment before steeling her resolve. It was only a library.

The gryphon had caught her gawking. "And you thought we had no taste," he said smugly, sitting up in front of her. "Now then, I'm not paid to indulge tourists. What were you sent here to find?"

"Law books. The oldest we have."

"Ah, well then, that's simple enough," he replied congenially, "just a quick hop up to the second floor and-"

"It's the fifth."

He quirked his head. "Are you omniscient, my lady?"

"No."

"Then it's the second-"

"It's the fifth."

They regarded each other for a moment like opponents in a dangerous game. He began to slowly circle her.

"You're awfully sure of yourself there, considering that you've never been here before." He stopped right behind her. She could feel his hot breath on her back. "Or have you?" His accusatory tone set her on edge. The truth was on her side but what was that in the face of the suspicion of the Court? She forced her voice to remain calm.

"My brother, the young Lord Ravensong, has a photographic memory. I shall be needing a ladder as well."

The gryphon sighed, annoyed. "The walking brain," he said acidly, "I should've known."

Morgan heard his enormous wings flapping and looked behind her just in time to see him neatly scoop her up beneath her arms with his monstrously strong forearms, lifting her off the ground. She had to bite her lip to keep from screaming in surprise and instead ground out, "What in the _name_ of-"

"Hold on tight, my lady," he threw the title at her as if it were an insult, "I should so hate to drop you." And with that he began to bear them upwards; the atrium was just large enough for him to pump his massive wings. To his amusement, Morgan _was_ hanging on - for dear life! This was certainly the last thing she had envisioned herself doing today! True, it was faster than a staircase but there had to be a better way to do this sans magic. She had never been up-close-and-personal with a gryphon before and, while they were obsessively cleanly creatures, she noticed that he had a distinct, musky odor to him and while it was not altogether unpleasant she hoped it would come out of her clothing. He brought them in over the guard railing of the fifth floor and set her lightly on her feet with a surprising sense of touch before landing himself. The sight would've been dizzying to a human - a sea of shelves with study tables interspersed throughout and just enough light to see by, no more. No shelf numbers, either.

_Perfect_, she thought, mentally rolling her eyes. The only possible clue was a small seam in the translucent floor that ran smack dab into the edge of a nearby shelf but didn't seem to come out the other side. _That has_ _to be __one__, so that means…_ She did a quick count of the shelves and found that they ran seven long in a row. They had to run clockwise; counter-clockwise was very ill luck indeed. She counted off 25 rows and started around the bend with the gryphon close at her heels. Upon reaching the correct row, she quickly strode down the corridor. _175...176...177...__178__, left side…_ It looked awfully dusty up there, not to mention badly lit - there were lamps on the tables but that was the only source of illumination. Enshrouded in this darkness was the history of their entire civilization, carefully hidden away from the eyes of the world. She longingly ran her hand along a set of books she recognized as having belonged to her father. Obviously many more had been added to the High King's collection over the past millennia, painstakingly transcribed by countless hands, countless voices, waiting to be heard, waiting to be finally understood as a whole so that there could be light in the world once again. Currently, there wasn't even a ladder in sight. She reluctantly turned to the gryphon. "Would you get me a ladder as I had originally requested?"

"Now, now," he teased her, managing to look parentally scolding with barely any moveable facial features, "what's the magic word?"

Morgan could think of several that would cool off this impertinent creature if they were anywhere but here but she could see that she would get nowhere without placating the wretched beast. She smiled a little too sweetly. "Please?"

He walked over to a nearby table and lightly leaped on top, grabbed something out of a quill jar with his beak and jumped back down. To her surprise it was a tiny ladder. He carefully set it on the floor. "Put it under your right foot."

Curious and with no alternative she did so and immediately her foot was in the first rung of a wooden ladder with slight gilding here and there.

_Clever_, she thought as she hiked up her skirts to climb it. Of course the books she needed were way up at the very top and she needed both hands to hang onto the ladder and her dress. "What am I supposed to do, grab them with my teeth?! I need both my hands just to be up here!"

The gryphon was lounging on the floor, watching. "Your problem, not mine," he replied lazily.

_Oh __really__? We'll see about __that__. _Letting go of her dress she grabbed the first hefty tome and deliberately dropped it.

"_HEY_!" the gryphon roared, racing to catch it. It was quickly followed by four others in rapid-fire succession. She gave a very pointed sigh of smug satisfaction and descended the ladder. Only to find the gryphon blocking her exit. "You think you're so smart. I would be more careful than that if I were you, my lady. Do remember what I am."

"Ah, but is being cast out of the City and stripped of your prestige and treasure worth satisfying your pride?"

He was growling but he backed up enough to let her down. She wasn't used to relying on her bravado to save herself like this and it was beginning to wear on her nerves a little. She made her way over to the table where the books were stacked and sat down. The gryphon leaped up onto the table and impertinently lay down, resting his head on his paws like a housecat, facing her from only about two feet away. She smiled.

"Do you mind or must you read over my shoulder?"

"I must, my lady; it is my duty, especially since you were so careless with these just now."

She resigned herself to the annoyance and pulled down the first one, opening it. She was amazed and a bit disgusted to discover that for as important of documents as these were, they were not even warded against aging and decay! Perhaps the Federation liked the idea of their law books being weak - it meant that they could easily be altered. Or destroyed. Perhaps the gryphon had a point, she thought warily. It would be painfully simple to damage one of these. Maybe others had already tried. But nothing could've prepared her for what she saw when she turned the flyleaf: it was the official Document of Federation! How much power this little piece of vellum carried! How many lives it had destroyed. There were flourishing signatures strewn all over it, the page was completely covered, not an inch of free space remained. She swallowed hard and fought back a tear - the name of the man who had murdered the High King was here in a bombast hand near the bottom left. He was still alive; quite a number of them were. What tore at her heart most surprised her, though: she could feel the intention of the drafters as if it were fresh! With what joy and ambition and forward-thinking had this document been forged! Not one person who had helped make it had thought that ill it was and evil would come of it. It had genuinely been meant for the good of all. How far reality had fallen short of their glorious, far-reaching dream. She presently collected herself and turned the page, beginning what she knew would be a long fight through sadistically tiny print.


	14. Flora and Merriweather Duke it Out

_Author's note: *sigh* okay, we've figured this out. The thing with the emphasis is I've been writing this like a _screenplay_, not a novel. I'm going back to the previous chapters and taking almost all of the emphasis out. Anyone who wants to read this the way I had originally intended (screenplay version) can see it on Retrogression Underground (same penname)_

* * *

Chapter #14 - Flora and Merriweather Duke it Out

Sarah knew that what they were doing here was important, vital even, but it was beginning to wear on her nerves how the other person involved seemed to only think of his side of the situation and nothing else at times. It had been a trying day at work and the last thing she wanted to deal with was this but Jareth was in one of his moods again and going to a late movie had _not_ helped; he had nearly burned himself on the metal parts of the seats and had started bitching and moaning about not having his magic again on the way home. Sarah was doing her best to keep her cool as she let them back into her apartment but she knew he was starting to get to her.

"Do you have any idea how awkward it is for me to be so limited? It would be as if you locked yourself out of your apartment without your bag: you could survive without it for a little while but you would be severely limited in what you could do. You would be itching to have it returned to you constantly."

"Oh, so I'm just an accessory now, how wonderful."

He gritted his teeth, fighting to keep from getting angry. "Sarah, don't put words into my mouth, I didn't say_ that_!"

"Well, what am I supposed to think?! You're being so cryptic!"

He could feel his self-control slipping as his passion and frustration increased. "I am not being cryptic, I am being as plain and simple as possible but it obviously isn't simple enough because you're only hu-" He looked shocked; the words immediately died in his throat with his acute embarrassment. He couldn't even look her in the eye. Sarah was _livid_.

"Say it."

"No."

"_**Say**__** it**_," she ground out.

He looked at her, aghast. "'Because you're only human.' Damn, it slipped. I didn't mean it, Sarah, I was just so frustrated that-"

"No," she said firmly, getting up, shaking her head, "I think you actually do." _And to think that I was beginning to have feelings for him; what an __asshole_. She wasn't going to cry, she was going to leave the room with her heart and her dignity intact. She walked away without another word. She was halfway down the hallway before the idea hit her. Now was the perfect time. He deserved it with every last little stuck-up fiber of his over-pressed, over-primped prissy body.

Jareth felt the sudden zap of magic and instinctively looked up: his crazy blonde mane - his trademark - was now baby _pink_! He heard a distinctively theatrical sigh of relief emanate from the hall. He fingered a strand in distaste, eying it.

"Very amusing, Sarah, now turn it back," he said dryly.

"Goodnight, Jareth," she called back tauntingly.

"_Sarah_…"

The door to her room clicked closed. Her anger may have been justifiable but the taunt felt more like an insult to his pride. She didn't realize that who she was toying with had _years_ of tricks up his sleeves and she had just asked for one.

* * *

11:39 p.m. Sarah suddenly awoke in a sweat, grasping the mattress, panting. What a dream! She hadn't had an erotic dream like that since she was a teenager! It had been so disorienting; she hadn't even seen who it _was_, almost as if it didn't even matter! It was just so…

It was then that she saw the silhouetted fountain mullet at the foot of her bed. She reached up quickly and flicked on the light on her nightstand: Jareth had his head propped on top of his folded arms, looking at her.

"Rough night?" he asked her in faux sympathy.

"OUT!" She threw a pillow at him as he cackled with uproarious laughter.

"Finders keepers," he said, picking it up and giving it a very judicious sniff, his eyes flicking back to her. "You _know_ what'll keep me out."

"Better locks and iron _walls_ maybe."

"Sarah…" He sounded tired.

"Fine! However it normally is and extra sparkly!" His hair immediately paled back to a light gold but he was doused in glitter; he stood, spluttering, shaking it out.

"You know I don't really use glitter_._"

"Tell that to the backseat of my car."

"Goodnight, darling," he teased, walking backwards to the door.

"And don't call me that!"

He snickered, closing it behind him.

_Pervert_, she rolled her eyes with a little headshake, turning back off the light. _But it turns into a mohawk at 4:00 a.m. __Sharp__, _she smirked, snuggling back into the covers.

* * *

4:00 a.m. Jareth was suddenly jerked awake. It felt exactly as if someone had pulled his hair - hard. And then he remembered. _Sarah. What did she do __now_? He reached up and felt that his hair had become a long row of vertical spikes on top of his head. Hard as a rock. _This has gone on quite long enough_, he sighed. He sat up and flashed an odd hand gesture at her room and lay back down, trying to ignore the strange feeling enough to go back to sleep.

* * *

6:03 a.m. "JARETH!" Sarah stormed into the living room in a bathrobe with her head in a towel. "What the hell did you do?!"

He was sitting at the dining room table with a cup of tea and a bagel, the mohawk standing in all its glory. "Since you were taking such joy in playing with my hair I thought I might have a go with yours," he replied genially, taking a sip of tea.

"It turned into the mother of all dreadlocks the _moment_ I washed out the conditioner! I can't even get my fingers in let alone through!"

"Ah, yes, timing _is_ what makes that one fun," he smiled.

"Undo it."

"Ladies first."

Sarah closed her eyes; she was fighting the urge to kill him. A moment later his hair fell back into its normal shape. He shook his head and ran his fingers through it in obvious relief.

"Bring me your hairbrush."

She gawked. "What?!"

"It's easier to put that in than it is to take out. It isn't all that bad, really, but you certainly couldn't do it on your own."

"No kidding; I'd have to cut it all off," she said, going to the bathroom to retrieve it.

"Even if you shaved your head it would grow back that way," he called to her. She reappeared at the end of the hallway.

"Sheesh, vindictive aren't we."

"I don't believe in screwing around, Sarah."

"And yet you believe in screwing _with_-"

He put up a hand to silence her. She looked as if she were about ready to cry. He sighed.

"Sarah," he said gently, "come here." She stood still. "While your anger last night was completely justifiable, we need to be able to talk through these things as adults. I realize that I am not perfect and sometimes I slip into very old habits. It isn't easy overcoming centuries' worth of prejudice; it certainly does not happen overnight. My parents raised us all with it as a normal mindset. Our society still runs on it to a certain degree with a loose caste system with nothing to uphold it but common misconception. Believe it or not I actually am trying but for as many as I have dealt with I have never known a human intimately before. I've certainly made an extensive study of the species with what resources I had - anatomy, behavioral patterns, history - but it is an entirely different experience to _know_…" He knit his eyebrows and shook his head, looking away. He glanced back at her, uncertain. His eyes were full of questioning, almost pleading with her. 'Can we make this work?' they seemed to be asking her. But he was considering it on many different levels. Seriously. They had been dancing around the issue for ages but there it was, spilled out between them like an oil slick on the ocean. They really _were_ different species. Similar in many surprising aspects but nonetheless alien to one another, citizens of completely different universes.

_Can he even __feel__ the way I do_? Sarah thought with a sinking feeling. _Ugh, this is almost too weird._ She didn't answer right away and when she did it was very measured. "I will try to be patient with you as long as you continue trying…" She suddenly knit her eyebrows with a look of disgust. "You didn't even say you're sorry and you have me apologizing to you!"

"Alright, I'm sorry, now just give me the damn brush!"

She roughly thrust it bristle-side down into his palm and turned away with a sulk. Jareth forced himself to breathe. The woman still had a fiery temper and if they weren't going to kill one another they were _both_ going to need to learn a little respect.

_Looks like I'm going to have to lead by __example__ here,_ he thought flatly. "If you would be so kind as to sit sideways on the couch; I don't want to ruin your dining room furniture by getting it wet."

Sarah did her best to ignore the mocking elegance in his sudden change in demeanor. They both walked to the living room. Once she had gotten comfortable he knelt behind her and unwrapped the damp towel from around her hair. His handiwork was abominable and he was doing his best not to laugh at it; it was all tied up in horrific knots and sticking out at ridiculous angles besides being completely matted together! Starting at the top, he began effortlessly straightening it from roots to ends in long, steady strokes.

"You and I are like fire and brimstone," he smiled grimly, "and I need to remember that so I don't needlessly ignite you."

She conceded, nodding slightly. "I wasn't the only one acting childish, though," she added quietly.

"Did I ever say you were?"

She finally surrendered half a smirk.

"Enough of this nonsense. What were your plans today?"

"Well…the new test prototype is just about complete. I think we're going to run it around the track and see how it does."

"That's good. Are you and Irina still working together on this?"

"Yeah, we've been trying to make the frame of the car lighter without making it a piece of junk so that it takes less power to run. We still have to keep in mind the safety of the occupants if they were ever in a crash."

"Yes, that would be of high importance, would it not?"

"You bet it is," she smiled with a touch of pride. "Cardboard cars are only something people used to get away with making in eastern Europe and Russia."

"Where Irina is from?"

Sarah sobered and gave a sigh. "Where Irina is from has thankfully stabilized for the most part but when she was there the communist government literally collapsed and no one really knew for certain what was going to happen. She was eighteen, the border had just opened for the first time in decades and she was ready for a clean break."

"Is that why she left? Because it was unsafe?"

"I don't know the whole story. We both agreed we don't want to talk much about our pasts but from the little I've managed to get out of her, I think her family life was a lot worse than mine and she didn't feel that she had much of a future where she was, and with everything that was going on..." Sarah shrugged, "it was just time to go, know what I mean?"

Jareth nodded solemnly. _Which explains why you feel a bond with her_, he thought darkly. _It is someone that she can secretly empathize with without revealing anything about herself._ "Communist…now I _know_ I've heard that word before but I'm not entirely certain what it means."

"How far are you in your world history book?"

"The Napoleonic Wars - quite an exciting period of time, but things are beginning to look bad for the Emperor."

Sarah smirked. "Well, skip ahead to 1900 and read until the end of the book and then go back to 1776."

"Yes, Miss Williams," he teased. "Almost finished." Her long, lustrous locks were lying obediently flat and untangled as they should but he wasn't about to take any chances. He put down the hair brush on the coffee table. "Now, if you would just tilt your head forward ever-so-slightly…"

"What are you-" To Sarah's surprise, Jareth began braiding her hair, but what kind of braid she couldn't begin to imagine. He was going quite fast for the difficulty: weaving, looping, crossing over, adding more strands from over here, pulling through, she couldn't even keep track of the movements! But she could tell that there was a rhythm to it; a pattern. He was pulling it quite tight to her head.

"Tell me if I'm pulling too hard."

"Jareth, I thought we were _done_ with this argument!"

"This has nothing to do with an argument. Most of the magic is out now but a trace remains - it is impossible to remove completely but it will wear out on it's own as the day progresses. Do you want your hair to spontaneously spring into knots again with absolutely no warning at work?"

"Of course not!"

"Then I have to do this to make sure it can't _move_. You can take it down tomorrow morning."

"What are you making back there anyway?"

"You'll see," he smiled. The plait was coming along nicely; her thick, straight hair was easy to work with. Not to mention how wonderfully silky the soft weight of it felt in his hands. It was a guilty pleasure being able to just play with it like this and he was almost ruing that it would all be over in seconds. He conjured a small black ribbon and secured the end. "There. All finished. You can get up now."

Sarah immediately pulled the end over so she could see it and her eyes just about popped out of her sockets: it was an extremely elaborate Celtic knot! She whipped back to look at him in surprised delight. His knowing, self-satisfied smirk and crossed arms said it all.

"Go on, look in the mirror."

She ran to the bathroom and grabbed the smaller hand mirror from the cabinet, turning her back to the one above the sink so she could get a better look. The thing was an incredible runner with at least seven major strands, like the border design of a page, culminating in a seemingly endless quad knot at the top.

_How am I ever going to explain __this__ one to my coworkers?_ she thought absently. By human standards, it was impossible. But he had done it. It all felt like her hair. There were no tricks. It was real. She came back out, not quite sure what to say. Thanks would usually be in order but it was just to keep a spell that _he was responsible for _from acting up some more. But talent like that just couldn't be ignored, either. He was still sitting on the couch, looking up at her with expectant, bright eyes.

"Well? Will it do?"

"Where did you ever learn to do this?"

He just shrugged. "Just random knowledge. Those kinds of designs are a part of my heritage. When you see certain ones long enough you figure out how they work. Although it _is_ easier working backwards…" He reached back to his own unruly pile of hair.

"I knew it!" she laughed.

"Knew what?"

"That you like primping!"

He sighed. "More so when I was younger. But yes, guilty as charged," he gave her a sexy little pout. "I can think of worse things to be convicted of than having a refined sense of taste." Sarah went back to her room to change with a smirk.

* * *

The Nikola Motors project had been annoying in general but it paled in the face of the incessant comments and compliments and questions Sarah's hair received that day. It was unnerving having to openly lie to everyone she knew. At last when Irina asked her about the braid she couldn't stand it and finally leaked the truth. Well, mostly the truth anyway. They were outside on the porch having lunch, out of earshot of anyone else.

"Irina, do you remember Jeremy?" It was so weird thinking of that as his name, it didn't fit him at all.

"Yes, why?"

"…he did this."

She gasped. "No! He didn't!"

"Really. He did," she took another bite of her sandwich. The incredulity was wearing on her nerves.

"Is he a stylist, then?"

Sarah smirked. "Yeah, general beautician. I met him in the mall. Used to work in one of those salons, The Venetian, was it?" She waved it off with her hand as if she couldn't remember. "But with the economy the way it is…well, it's amazing we still have our jobs."

Irina nodded. "I am sorry to hear that about him. At least he should not be out of work long - he is very talented. I have never seen such work before. Now, Sarah, this is the first you've talked about him since he dropped off those papers for you the day you were sick. _I_ know you've been holding out. _You_ know you've been holding out. So _spill_ already!" she teased. "Are you two going out?"

"What? Oh no. _No_, no, no, no," Sarah laughed nervously, looking down, " I don't think so."

"Why not? He seems nice. He has great taste," she shoved her playfully, "he is handsome…wait," she hushed her tone, leaning in close. "Is he a fairy? Is that why you two are just friends?"

Sarah paled in sudden panic and then she realized that there was no way on God's green earth that Irina could possibly _know_. The change in her demeanor was immediate and obvious.

"Somebody walk on your grave? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she shook it off, "I was just thinking of something else. No, I'm pretty sure he's straight. Although sometimes I wonder…" she smirked, grabbing a carrot stick.

"What is it? Mannerisms? Comments?"

"_Makeup_."

"Makeup?"

Sarah gulped. If she ever saw him by accident, it had to be okay. "Eye shadow."

"I see," Irina smiled, idly twirling her straw in her drink. "Afraid he is prettier than you?"

"Shut up!" Sarah laughed.

"That's it," Irina nodded. "Do I get to meet him again or are you stashing him somewhere?"

_Actually yes, he's been hiding out in my apartment for weeks because he's ridiculously paranoid that psychics will figure out what he is - yes, __what__ - and capture his sparkly ass and drag him off who-knows-where to do their nefarious bidding. Besides the whole Goblin King needing me thing. Yeah, that'll fly. _"I'll check when his next free day is, job hunting and all. Maybe we could all do dinner or something. He's a great cook, too." Sarah realized what she was saying far too late; the words were already out of her mouth. _Oops__…_

"What? Oh my god, you _are_ hiding him! Afraid of competition so you're keeping him all to yourself? Why didn't you tell me?!"

Sarah sighed. "…I thought I'd never hear the end of it. We aren't doing anything."

"Oh, Sarah," Irina hugged her around the shoulders for a moment, "you know I only tease you in fun. I am happy for you. You don't need to hide from me. Have you told anyone else?"

"No. Because we're not dating!"

"And yet he is incredibly concerned about you, plays with your hair, cooks your meals, hmmm…I call that…dating! Are you living together yet?"

"Irina!"

"Are you?"

Sarah gave an exasperated sigh. "…he's in-between apartments, okay?! He has no way of paying rent! It's just until he can get a place of his own. It's not what you think, we're not sleeping together!"

Irina just smiled a secretive little smile.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Fine, think whatever you like, you're not going to believe one word that comes out of my mouth. Just don't spread it around, okay?"

"We have our antisocial workaholic image to maintain. I understand," Irina said quietly, still smiling. "Just know that you aren't fooling anyone, especially me. People are going to start noticing that you are actually _happy_. It is not a bad thing, Sarah, even if he _is_ a little eccentric. So are you. He was not born in America, was he? What is his nationality?"

Sarah seriously thought for a moment. "I actually don't know." It was a relief after so many lies to finally tell some truth. "At first I assumed British, then he's made mention of serious Celtic roots, but he doesn't have an Irish accent. It's odd."

"Not really. They are close enough for that."

Sarah looked at her watch - lunch hour was just about over. Back to the grind. They both packed up their things off of the table and started walking back toward the building. Irina stopped her.

"Prove me wrong."

"What?"

"In spite of an incredible amount of evidence pointing to the opposite conclusion, here in America we presume innocence until the party in question is proven guilty. Let me see you two together and you can make your case _then_."

Sarah felt guilty for keeping Irina in the dark about this but she just hadn't known if it would be safe to tell her anything. Like always. She wanted to help, she wanted to be a real friend and meet the guy that Sarah had been hanging out with on the sly to see what was really going on between them. If the shoe was on the other foot, Sarah probably would be doing the exact same thing. Seriously, what harm was there in staging a meeting? Provided that his pride would endure the history that she had just created for him on the fly, she was sure that Jareth could perform his way through another encounter with Irina. The first one had obviously left a good impression. She would have to talk to him about the situation to see what his thoughts were on the matter, but she had a feeling he would not be entirely adverse to the idea (if for no other reason than it had been ages since he had bamboozled someone and the perverse idea of willing practice would no doubt appeal to him). Besides, Irina didn't have second-sight. It was safe.

"I'll have to talk to him to see when a good time would be."

"Would not any time be good? He is currently looking for a job, no?"

"Oh, yeah," Sarah covered a bit nervously. Irina looked at her sidelong.

"Are you _sure_ everything is alright? You are acting strangely."

"Irina, you're interrogating me!" she laughed as they walked into the building. "Of course it's stressful!"

"Fine, then, have it your way. But I expect an answer and soon."

* * *

When Sarah got home, Jareth was seated at the computer, typing furiously. He had been so engrossed in what he was doing that he almost hadn't registered that she had come back. He quickly shut everything down. Sarah flopped down into the recliner.

"J, we need to talk," she sighed, sounding exhausted.

He turned around to face her. "What happened?"

"Out-of-the-blue Irina just started grilling me about you. I had to make up a history for you and everything on the fly but I'm not sure how much of it she believes. She wants to meet you again just to see what's really going on." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I know she's just concerned about me because I'm being so cagey about this but the problem is she thinks that we are…dating."

"Dating?"

Sarah winced, putting a hand over her eyes. "Courting."

His eyebrows shot up in momentary surprise but a slow smile spread across his face as they relaxed again. "Now whatever did you tell her that gave her _that_ impression?" he asked amusedly.

"All I did was tell her some of the things we've been doing together. She thinks I'm in denial or something and I can't change her mind." She gave a sigh of exasperation. "I mean, what are we supposed to do?"

Jareth crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back into the couch. "_Well_, since she is your friend I suppose a charade is it order. How would you wish to go about it? I would be fairly comfortable playing it either way."

"…I don't know…"

"Friends," he said a bit tersely.

"But would she believe it?"

"And therein lies the rub," he smiled. His voice had taken on a strange sarcasm momentarily and Sarah wasn't sure why. "To be perfectly honest, we would probably be better off just playing along with her misconceptions. People are always more ready to believe what they already wish to be true."

It sounded to Sarah like a horrible thing to say but no doubt he was right. "I know you're probably right but I just can't get past having to lie this much to someone I care about; it goes against everything I believe in."

"Would you prefer for me to magically change her mind so she doesn't want to meet me?"

"No!"

"Then your only alternative _is_ to lie; you cannot tell her the truth. She must believe me human or our entire cover is at risk of being blown!" he said simply. "We can still keep to certain facts if you like. I hardly believe there is anything shameful in liking New Age music, is there?"

Sarah laughed. "As long as it isn't Muzak."

"What?"

"Just trust me on this one; you're much happier not knowing. Blandest music on earth."

"I see."

"So…we need to start coming up with a story."

"I thought you already made one."

"It's shaky at best. I made up something about you being an unemployed beautician. I'm sure you can embellish it a lot better than I can."

His eyebrows raised. "My Sarah, was that a compliment?"

"I don't know, it was just the first thing that popped into my head. I guess I just figured it would explain your sense of style if your job was worrying about what people looked like."

He thought for a moment. "What if we settle for a compromise?"

"On what?"

"Let's tell her that we are friends and I shall most assuredly act the part, but I pull her aside at a moment when you are not present and tell her I'm trying to get up the nerve to ask to…date you? That is the correct word?"

Sarah swallowed, uneasy. "Yes."

"I explain that you are…no, not a cold fish but a very easily frightened one and I didn't want to scare you away so I was trying to take it slowly and let you get used to me. Trying to prove myself worthy of more than your friendship by being eager and demonstrative in my caring for you and trying to help in any way possible." He was looking into her eyes in earnest now. "What if it isn't entirely a story, Sarah?" he asked quietly.

Sarah was so surprised that she couldn't quite find her voice for a moment and had to look away to try to compose herself, blinking. She was floored. She had absolutely no idea of what to say to him. The more she hurriedly thought about it, the more things certainly seemed that way. He had admitted basic attraction before and even acted on it, but _this_...

_Oh my god…he __is__ falling for me!_ "We're not even the same species…" she whispered finally.

"Yes, but she doesn't know that, now does she?" he said in his normal conversational tone, smiling. Sarah turned to look at him. She honestly couldn't tell where the joke ended and the seriousness began. And she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to chase it to see how far it went either way.

_People will believe what they wish to be true._ True indeed, but very odd. "That will be fine," she finally said, managing to make her voice sound normal again.

"Good. I'll just start fabricating a history then. Oh, dinner's in the fridge, I already ate my meal," he said, going back to the computer and booting up the internet again, taking his seat. Sarah got up and went to the kitchen, opening up the door to the refrigerator to see what he had left her. There was a covered microwavable plate on the second shelf as usual. She took it out and peeked under the lid. He rarely made the same thing twice. Tonight's delicacy looked like some sort of chopped game poultry with a citrus glaze - grapefruit maybe - with a nut and vegetable pilaf underneath. Even cold it smelled unbelievably delicious. On instinct she looked up and just caught him watching her out of the corner of his eye with a little smile before his gaze flicked back to the screen.


	15. Let's Dance

Chapter 15 - Let's Dance

Jareth wished he had never heard the term 'listians,' let alone never wanting to see it again. True, these maniacs had saved his life to some extent but having to actually deal with them…

_These women are __insane_, he thought, scrolling through another forum topic. At first it had almost been flattering. He was beginning to feel defiled. Him! He had managed to find roughly half-a-dozen forum/chat spaces devoted to him that hadn't been abandoned - apparently he was viewed as a sort of rite of passage for many and after a certain amount of time had passed the initiated moved on with their lives. Usually. The effect had been cyclical over time; rather than growing, the 'active' 'fan base' seemed to stay about the same size. New faces, same tired topics. Rehashing lines from the movie over and over and over. Psychoanalyzing the 'characters' (especially him.) Constant physical 'praise' and general obsession with the portrayed personality. There were even a few people who actually liked David Bowie.

He had made profiles under his own name on all of these sites and had been inciting quite a lot of wishing and daydreaming for what seemed like ages. It was actually helping but the going was slow and the conversations were really wearing on him. He had avoided discussing it too much with Sarah, just enough to state his progress, but from the physical shifting as he talked and how quickly he changed the subject she knew they were making him uncomfortable at the very least. At first it was hilarious; he was finally getting a taste of his own medicine. It was still mildly amusing but she knew she had to figure out some way of helping him; at the rate the fans were going he would be stuck here for years and she didn't know how much more of this degradation he would be willing to put himself through. So here she was, dressed in the corset top he had coerced her into buying, along with a decent pair of black jeans and ballet flats, trying to screw up the courage to get him to turn around from the computer. She had to ruefully admit it did look good without looking risqué.

"Jareth?"

He sighed heavily. "Yes?"

"I thought of something else to try."

"What's that, dear?"

"Turn around."

He swiveled around in the computer chair and looked pleasantly surprised as he approvingly appraised her. "You have my undivided attention," he smiled, reaching down and hitting the power strip to the computer.

The butterflies in Sarah's stomach felt ridiculous but she couldn't help his effect on her in moments like this. As his eyes had flitted over her briefly before resting on hers, she knew he'd meant it. Well, she'd worn this for a reason. She started awkwardly, her eyes dropping to the floor.

"Okay, so you know when I told you I can only two-step a little…that was sort of a lie."

One of his elegant eyebrows arched up with a growing devious smile.

"I mean I haven't had to do this since high school. I don't even know why our old gym instructor thought he had to teach us this, it wasn't even popular at the time. Stand up."

Just about holding his breath, hoping she wouldn't lose her nerve, he got up and walked over.

"So I did a little research and found out that the type of Swing dancing he taught us is called Lindy Hop. There are at least a dozen different variations on this style of dancing."

"Swing, you said this was?"

"Yeah. Okay, so you start just holding hands like this." As she took his hands she looked up into his face. He was practically beaming at her. "And you start on your…my right so your left foot. It's one, two-three, one, two-three, back and; left travel, right travel, back rock. You can pull away your arm on the back step like this," and she showed him.

"And…"

"That's all I remember," she laughed a little embarrassedly. "I was just thinking that they do this upstairs at the Gem sometimes and with this version there's a lot of acrobatic tricks for the more advanced and I think we've proven by now that you can successfully throw me around. That would probably be the easy part. What do you think?"

His eyes simply held her there for a moment like he could; he was still smiling softly.

"It's a start," he said gently, releasing her and turning on the computer again, getting into the dance site and querying the style she had just told him.

"You've probably seen it before on your dancing program and just didn't know what it was."

"Alright, we'll look there first." An internet video search came up with an example right away but upon playing it Jareth was instantly taken aback. "These people look ridiculous! I've seen Fireys dance more civilly than this! Are you sure…"

She nodded. True to her word, the man was throwing his partner around in an incredible display of acrobatic skill but they were kicking their legs out all over the place and making the goofiest happy expressions imaginable.

"Do we have to look this idiotic?"

Sarah laughed. "They get extra points for being in character like that but smiling would be nice."

He had wanted so much for this to work when she instigated it but his pride could only take so much. "I refuse to look like that much of a fool, and in public no less. I am sorry, Sarah," he stated with finality, shutting the site.

"Oh come on! I'm trying my hardest to come up with something here-"

"And I appreciate it, but-"

"But what? You'd rather sit here for the next five to seven years making degrading small talk with a bunch of horny women than take a little blow to your projection of yourself? If it was just you I'd say fine, waste your life, but there's more at stake than just you here. I'm willing to look a little silly if you are."

Jareth was shocked at Sarah's sudden harsh attitude but had to wearily concede that she was right. Unless he could get back, he wasn't king of anything and certainly didn't have any right to act like one, but nevertheless it cut against the grain. He suddenly realized that he had been behaving like a coward, which certainly wasn't worthy of his title. He sighed, defeated.

"Alright, we'll try it, but if this works and I go back I don't want you breathing a word of this to a soul, do you understand?"

"Absolutely," she smiled. _I'll only leak it to Irina. Accidentally._

* * *

"He isn't…"

"He is!"

* * *

Practice had been running smoothly for a week now, or at least as smoothly as it could run in Sarah's small apartment. There was plenty of room for the basic dancing but she needed a running start for some of the tricks and there simply wasn't enough space.

"No, I don't want you to make the room larger," she laughed, "we just have to find somewhere else to practice the tricks. Maybe a park…"

"Heaven forbid."

"Well, you're going to have to do this publicly sometime J, that was the whole point of this exercise."

It had not escaped Jareth's notice that Sarah was growing not only increasingly comfortable around him but also comfortable and confident expressing herself in the dance. She was really genuinely enjoying this, sometimes to the point that it seemed that she had forgotten that this was a test, a means to an ends. And it was working beautifully. He wished he could say the same of himself. This sort of dancing was fine for a human but he was sidhe; he was too preternaturally graceful for the crazy jerky movement necessary for the look of the thing and he knew in spite of his best efforts that no matter how well he knew his steps and got all the beats right it was never going to look totally natural and it was making him annoyingly self-conscious.

_Wait…_ He stepped behind her suddenly and locked his arms over her stomach.

"Jareth, what are you-"

"Just hold on tight and close your eyes." That now-familiar, mischievously playful smile was dancing about his lips once more. Sarah smirked with a quiet laugh, shaking her head, closing her eyes. There was an immediate whoosh of air coming from everywhere at once and she suddenly couldn't feel the floor! Having absolutely no idea what he was doing, she clung to him, hoping whatever it was would be over quickly. The next second there was solid ground beneath her feet again. "You can open your eyes now," his rich, playful voice sounded from behind her. She opened one eye -

And found herself on the green in the middle of the driving course on south Table Mountain in Golden! Sarah stepped out of his embrace and did a full 360° turn, taking in their surroundings. Jareth looked more than a little pleased with himself.

"There. Plenty of room and no-one about for miles."

"As long as the police don't mind us being here. How on earth did you know about this place?"

"What?!"

"J, this is a police driving practice range," Sarah answered calmly. "I guess I'm lucky it's not the shooting area," she laughed. "Granted they do rent it out for special events and weddings but still…"

Worry clouded Jareth's face, holding out one hand to her. "We should leave."

"Oh, no," Sarah teased him, taking him by surprise, "you brought us here, you're gonna practice. Just…ah…clear the area of snakes first."

Jareth sent out feelers and, yes, there were a few rattlesnakes on that lawn. A thought sent seven hurrying into the brush on the other side of the track. Sarah did a quick full-body shiver watching it. "All safe. Ready when you are."

Sarah swallowed. This was it. She walked a fair distance from Jareth and turned to face him. Getting a running start, she came straight at him and leaped. He caught her just under her arms and Sarah straightened her legs at a loose 90° angle and swung left of him, right side, and one dip through his open-stance legs and back up. This was the hard bit. The world went upside-down as she was somersaulted over his right shoulder. Sarah suddenly got dizzy and accidentally went off the side of his shoulder instead of going all the way over and landing on her feet; he hung on to her and carefully brought her back to earth.

"Are you all right?"

She shook it off. "Just got dizzy; sorry. Again?"

And again

And again

And again

And again

Until it felt so natural that Sarah felt she could do the move in her sleep. They did a few other acrobatic stunts while they were out there; the over-the-back roll was easy in comparison, although Jareth lost his center of balance the first time she came over and nearly toppled himself. On the whole it went well, however, and after about an hour or so they were totally exhausted, lying head-by-head on the lawn staring up at the blue sky. It was a gorgeous day. Only when a golden eagle started to circle above them did Sarah suggest it was probably time to go.

"You know," she said getting up, brushing the grass off her clothing, "it's something of a joke out here that the eagles circle the football fields during practice waiting for someone to drop."

The eagle did dive a short distance away - and carried away a big, writhing rattlesnake in it's talons, bearing it away high up.

"Definitely time to leave. That spell doesn't last forever," Jareth said, glancing at the periphery of the oval lawn they were in. A couple snakes were beginning to cross the blacktop road back in. Sarah allowed him to sort of hug her again and before she knew it they were back in her apartment. She collapsed on the sofa and Jareth went to get them both tall glasses of water. Sarah accepted hers, looking thoughtful.

"You know, it's almost kind of weird. I mean, I work in this huge complex where those mesas are practically in the backyard - we even own part of that facing slope - but I'm almost never up there. I've been hiking on a couple of occasions and been to the top of Table Mountain once but most of the time I just don't really think about them at all. They're just sort of … there. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

He nodded, seating himself beside her. "I believe this is a casual case of the everyday being taken for granted. While it is not a good habit on the whole, there is so much that your brain has to process every day with your work that a little bit is understandable. You usually have other priorities. How is it going, by-the-way?"

Sarah just shook her head.

"I don't think it's going anywhere but we've got a couple weeks left. Maybe some miracle will happen between now and the deadline but I'm not holding my breath."

"What happens should you fail?"

"Not much, actually. We just get patted on the back for knocking ourselves out over nothing and get shuffled off to the next project. And they never mention it again."

He glanced at her. "Saving face?"

"Something like that."

He nodded.

They sat in silence for a moment, taking turns draining their glasses. He set his on the table and crossed his legs, leaning into the couch with his arms over the back, looking at her, seeming to be considering something. They had been living together for months now and Sarah still couldn't shake how his attention affected her. Under normal circumstances she might be tempted to call it attraction - 'normal' being the operative word here, which was strictly not the case. He had been seriously flirting with her for some time now but, studying him back, she found that she wasn't ever totally sure whether he was serious or not. The fact of what he was complicated the matter even further. Faery creatures were notoriously fickle from what she knew, loving some poor mortal on a whim and then leaving them to waste away. And after getting to know Jareth like she had, she doubted the fact was even malicious most of the time; it was just part of how they were wired. She trusted Jareth to an amazing degree but she still didn't know. He seemed to mean well and wanted to do well by her but how far could he deny his own nature? Jareth broke the silence.

"Penny for your thoughts, love."

"You first."

He smirked and she belatedly realized that he had chosen not to read her. "I was just thinking that perhaps it's a good thing that I'm here. You seem to need a good uninvolved third party with which to air your grievances about your job. It's irritating to be upset because you actually care. That and the fact that your 'mountains', as people around here call your mesas, are particularly pretty in their own way this time of year with the scrub oak changing colors and that I need to think up an excuse to get you back up there sometime, perhaps for a small daytrip?"

Sarah was genuinely caught off-guard but pleasantly surprised. "That would be great! Do you want me to get the trail maps so you can figure out how you want to go?"

"I'll make my own path."

"Figures," Sarah rolled her eyes.

He paused a moment. "And what about you?"

"What?"

He smiled. "What were you pondering just there when you were casually scrutinizing me?"

Sarah faintly blushed at the accusation. "I was just wondering about you."

Jareth shifted slightly so that he was partially turned in her direction and the attention did not go unnoticed.

"Wondering what?"

Sarah looked down at her hands. "Just wondering," she said quietly and made a vague excuse to get up, bringing the empty glasses back into the kitchen.

Jareth knew he needed to find a way to end this soon. He couldn't afford to give her any more time to wonder about him.

He was beginning to wonder himself.


	16. The Whole Truth

Chapter 16: The Whole Truth

On all counts, Sarah Williams was neck-deep in trouble but only she seemed to think so.

She had been practicing East Coast swing with Jareth in the privacy of her own living room for a couple of weeks now but she wasn't so sure about doing it in public yet and he was insisting that they do it soon. Unbeknownst to her, he had obtained Irina's home phone number and leaked the information to her; she had to play-act like she didn't already know but loved the fact that he wanted them to both gang up on Sarah about this to keep her from chickening out. Irina was thrilled about this development, giving her mounting suspicion seeming solidity, and between the two of them they managed to coerce Sarah into 'going public with it' on a Saturday night at the Gem. The café had regular lessons and dances in the upstairs room but she had never been to a one of them. Irina was going along for moral support, promising to make an idiot of herself on the dance floor by the end of the night. She was going to go to Sarah's apartment first and then they would all drive to the Gem together. Or, at least, that had been the plan. Sarah and 'her guy,' as Irina referred to Jareth at this point, had been preparing for the evening out, but much more in rehearsing how to act in front of their guest than in dressing up.

"J, do we really have to delude my best friend for this?" Sarah asked annoyed, unlocking the front door.

"She must believe us a couple or this will never work. A strange jobless man whom you have no feelings for, living with you and not even paying for the privilege of sleeping in your living room? Highly unlikely and very suspicious." A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. "We could make this very realistic," he said huskily, a pink crystal forming on his fingertips. It levitated out of his hand and headed for Sarah! Her eyes went wide, fairly guessing what it was - some sort of temporary love spell probably - and on instinct she found that she could mentally bat it away. He laughed at her reaction as it floated toward him again. "Playing hard to get, are we?" He mentally gave it a shove himself and in no time they were playing this crazy game of psychic ping-pong right in her living room!

Irina heard their shouts and laughter as she came up to the landing, smiling herself - their merriment was infectious. She listened at the door for a moment, almost hating to interrupt, but it was time to go and they showed no sign of abating whatever it was. She knocked twice and opened the door - Sarah said it would be unlocked. What happened next happened so fast that it was over in under a second but to Sarah it felt like years: from Irina's shocked, wide-eyed gasp Sarah instantly knew that she had not only seen Jareth with his real hair and eye markings (it was always the very last thing he did before going out just to make sure he kept remembering to do it) but she had also seen the shining, glinting crystal being flung back and forth in midair with no physical form of propulsion! Jareth noticed a split second before Sarah did and it broke his concentration: instead of hitting him, the crystal lightly exploded in pink glitter and silently disintegrated into the floor. Before Sarah could see what was happening, the door was closed and Jareth teleported across the room and grabbed Irina before she could bolt back out; his left hand holding her wrists behind her back and his right hand over her mouth in case she cried out and the look in her brown eyes went from shock to abject terror. Sarah was seething.

"Jareth if you harm one hair on her had I swear-"

"**Quiet****!**" he snapped rather rudely. "I have no intention of harming her; she merely caught me unawares and I reacted instinctively. I fear she knows too much." He looked down at his captive, who had ceased to struggle; his grip, while not painful, was as strong as iron. "Now then," he said in a gentle tone of voice, addressing Irina, "if you were only a stranger there would be but one course of action but since you are Sarah's friend I shall give you a choice. You can remain with us and learn the truth from Sarah if you think you can handle it - what you saw just now only grazes the surface. I will be neither angry nor disappointed should you feel that you can't - most mortals have a hard time dealing with the concept of magic, it's almost a little too alien to comprehend with any sense of comfort and I am of the opinion that troubling and useless knowledge is by its own definition evil. The second choice is most assuredly the easier and what I would have done instantly had I not known you: you would simply fall asleep right here in my arms and I would teleport you back to your car in the blink of an eye. You would wake up almost instantaneously behind the wheel with absolutely no recollection of what has happened here, nor indeed that you were even asleep. You would only think that you had just put the key in your purse and would re-enter the building and come up to us just as you did right now and in a few minutes we would all go out for a nice evening. Yes, you're staying or no, you're not. Just shake your head in response." He leaned in closer to her left ear. "All you have to do is one little 'no' and this will all have been only a bad dream," he crooned temptingly.

If this hadn't concerned Sarah she would have given in in an instant - she had never been so scared in her life and desperately wished it hadn't happened at all. Jeremy X. Did Sarah say his name was Jareth? The whole time she had been watching Sarah and had seen her anger melt into concern.

"Let her make her own decision, J," she now said, a little irritated that he was trying to influence her besides. "Irina, I'm am so sorry this happened and I know this is crazy but I promise that whatever you choose you're going to be okay. I promise."

_But what about you, Sarah,_ Irina thought, more than a little troubled at her friend's calm reaction. _Are __you__ okay? Who the hell __is__ this guy?!_ She knew she was probably going to regret this but Sarah might be in incredibly big trouble if this man had worked any of his freaky mojo on her. She might need someone to call the police. Irina took a deep breath and nodded 'yes'. Jareth heaved a great sigh.

"Very well. I am going to release you now. Do not scream." He carefully let go of her wrists and mouth. Irina slowly turned around and was face-to-face with a very otherworldly-looking man. His skin was pale as ever but his facial features were sharper, harsher than when she had seen him as Jeremy Xavier. His long hair stood up mostly like a cross between a bad case of static electricity and a mullet. But it was his eyes that were most striking - he had markings on them that swept up past his eyebrows, the color was just under the skin. As Jeremy they had been rather attractive eyes; as Jareth they were downright compelling, she couldn't look away. He calmly watched her take in what his face looked like without the glamour but when she started looking into his eyes he held hers for a brief second because she had been staring - and when she kept looking anyway he lightly smirked.

_Nope, Sarah's not going to like this one bit_, he thought amusedly. The smirk broke the spell and Irina suddenly remembered herself and started slowly backing away from him.

"Sarah… who is this man?"

Sarah went quickly to the stunned woman and led her to the couch, sitting with her.

"Iri…do you remember back when we first met, when we mutually agreed to not talk about our pasts when we were young because they were way too crazy?"

Irina glanced at Jareth, who was still standing by the door and looking decidedly uncomfortable, fidgeting absently with the hem of his right glove. Sarah continued.

"I know you had a hard time coming to this country and I don't blame you for not wanting to relive it. Oh, how to say this!"

"I am her past," Jareth chimed in. "Or at least the part she would have never told you about. You see, when her parents got divorced Sarah began to retreat into her own fantasy worlds-"

"Hey, let me tell my own embarrassing story. You can incriminate yourself later." She would've continued but Irina looked incredibly dubious of Jareth. _I don't blame her_, she thought irritated and suddenly grabbed Irina's hand. "We're going to my bedroom to talk and you're staying out here," she said pointedly to Jareth. After all that had just happened he actually had the gall to look taken aback at being excluded.

"I was only trying to help."

"You've done quite enough," Sarah answered levelly. "Come on, Irina." The two women made their way down the hall to the closed door at the end and entered. Irina looked back just in time to see Jareth watching them go with genuine concern in his strange, wild eyes. Sarah locked the door. Irina looked very concerned herself.

"Sarah, if you cannot give me a sane, reasonable explanation for the mayhem that's going on here, I am calling 911 right now - for your sake as much as mine," she said, getting out her cellphone.

"No, don't. I can explain everything. Please sit." They sat together on the side of the bed. Sarah took a deep breath. "What J said out there was true, I'm just not comfortable hearing other people say it. After the my parents' divorce I was a wreck. I became this whiny little bitch and lost most of my friends. If my father or stepmother had had any sense they would've gotten me to a therapist but they just thought I'd out grow it so nothing was ever done. And to make matters even worse they had a baby. I know that sounds like a terrible thing to say but it took away the little attention that I got from my father; my mom stopped coming to visit but I felt like I could identify with her more. We were both big dreamers and she was off chasing hers. I could almost forgive her for that but I still missed her terribly. I felt like I was all alone and it didn't take too long for me to feel more at home in worlds I made up than in the one I was living in. I was always the heroine, the princess who was being wrongly treated. I had costumes and everything, I was sort of live-action role-playing before it existed," she laughed momentarily.

Sarah got up and went to her closet and pulled down a small box from the top shelf and took something out. "And then the red book showed up." She tossed it to Irina, who caught it and read the title. The Labyrinth. Upon further inspection there was no author or, indeed, any publication information at all. The paper was yellowed with age but it was unusually thick - a very expensive weight for a young adult novel - and the binding looked hand-sewn. "To this day I can't remember when I got it. It wasn't a present and I didn't find it anywhere. I think I just woke up one morning and it was there. And from that moment on it never left me. The story became my story. I had this whole thing memorized at one point in time and I used to act out scenes from it in the park. And that's when Jareth started coming to watch me. I think he planted the book, too."

Irina went cold thinking of Sarah being stalked like that she suddenly put two-and-two together. "That's him?! The man you have been afraid of all these years - and he's in your living room?! Why is on earth is he here?!"

"Because he doesn't have much of a choice - no, wait, hold your horses, this episode of Springer isn't over yet, it gets better. I think he calculated that sooner or later my temper would get the better of me and I would use the book on Toby. Now, I've had to give this a lot of thought since he's been here and I've come to the conclusion, knowing what I know now, that in his own bizarre way he was actually trying to help me. He saw the distress my little brother was causing me and knew that it was the one thing in his power that he could do something about. Human logic doesn't come easily to Jareth sometimes."

Irina forgot to breathe for a moment. "What happened?" she whispered.

Sarah took the book from her and flipped to a dog-eared page toward the front and pointed to the dialogue about halfway down.

"And don't you dare read it aloud - I don't know what would even happen anymore since he isn't there to supervise." The infamous incantation was underlined, highlighted, and circled in red ink with a warning scrawled in the margin: DO NOT READ OUT LOUD! Irina read the simple sentence to herself and went white as a sheet, staring at it in dawning horror.

"…you wished him away…"

"The last thing I expected was for it to be real." Sarah paused for a moment, seeming to remember as she stared at the floor. "The whole thing is real, Iri. I mean, some parts were embellished to make the story more exciting and palatable but all the major points are real. The next thing I knew all the lights in the neighborhood went out and Toby was gone and my parents' room was just crawling with these dark, hairy little creatures and Mr. Drama himself appeared in plate armor and offered me everything I'd ever wanted in exchange for the child. He'd never even dreamed that I might say no."

She turned to look at Irina. "I had to go through a lot. The world of Faerie has it's own rules and I think it's death for anyone from there who breaks them, so he couldn't help me - but I got Toby back. The whole experience sort of terrorized me back into reality but it was a heavy price to pay. I felt like I couldn't relate to anyone until I met you. You know what it's like to be running from…" Sarah trailed off but Irina hugged her tight for a moment. She had known that despite how different they were in personality that there was a kind of elusive bond between them that she could never really put her finger on before but she understood it now. When she pulled away there were little tears in her eyes. "I still haven't told you the weirdest part."

Eyebrows went up. "Weirder than that?"

"Totally unbeknownst to me, I also won all his magic. I didn't even know until he told me a few months ago. He's been stuck in our world for over two decades; it's taken him this long just to find me! He literally can't go home without it!"

Irina looked very incredulous. "And you are…helping him?"

"Amazingly, yes."

"Why?"

Sarah closed her eyes and smiled a little private smile.

"I don't know." She opened them again and looked at the other woman with this playful glint and Irina instantly knew what her best friend wasn't about to admit, not even to herself: she was falling for him! The idea of them together had thrilled her once but now she felt that the match bordered on clinical insanity. How could she?! After all that! Irina's expression was imminently readable. "Because he actually isn't all that bad, he's just mostly a little kooky. And he's made me an oath not to lie to me that he can't break on pain of instantaneous death. He's teaching me, too. Watch this."

Sarah closed her eyes and brought her right hand up to face-level with all the fingers together up. There was a brief shimmering and in the next moment a small clear crystal ball was perched on her fingertips - Irina gasped as it appeared and Sarah smiled. "Let's see what he's up to out there." She closed her eyes and concentrated again and in moments the inside of the crystal flared to life and they could both see what was within like a hologram: Jareth was lounging in the recliner with one leg dangled over an arm, as he was fond of doing, watching them with a crystal of his own - there they were, tiny but clear as day! He looked up and smiled a cocky smile at them and waved. "You realize, of course, that this defeats the purpose of a closed door," she mouthed very distinctly at him. He rolled his eyes and tossed his crystal in the air and it popped like a bubble. He made a gesture like 'it's your turn' and Sarah did the same - hers popped a lot more forcefully but it didn't explode like a bomb like they used to, either. Progress. "And we've been able to discuss the whole thing in depth and fairly clear the air. Although we still have a few basic issues like privacy!" she yelled at the door and Jareth simply opened it as if it had never been locked.

"I like knowing what's being said about me, don't you? You make it sound like I spy on you naked!"

"Okay, so granted you don't do that but you still read my mind almost constantly unless you're trying to make a good impression for some reason!"

He simply shrugged. "I take it we're not going out tonight?"

"Yeah, probably not. I know you had your heart set on showing me off. We can do it next Saturday. Can you still come, Iri?"

"I wish I could - I am going to have out-of-state friends from college in town that I will have to entertain."

"Ah well," said Jareth, "I'll just have to call you and tell you how splendid Sarah was because I know she won't tell you herself," he smirked pointedly at Sarah, making her blush in embarrassment. "Where are my manners? If we're going to totally blow my cover we should go about it correctly. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Jareth Ravensong, second son of the late High King, current Goblin King and Lord of the Labyrinth," he said, bowing quickly with a flourish, "and you would be?"

Irina looked confused. "But you already know me!"

"You know Jeremy Xavier. We've never been properly introduced," he smiled broadly, lifting up her right hand and lightly kissing the back of it. Sarah sighed, running a hand over her face.

"He also has an ego the size of the sun."

He looked slightly miffed at the jab as he let go of Irina. "If you're just going to keep insulting me I shall step back out."

"That's a threat?" Sarah laughed. "As long as you're retreating to save face, would you mind picking up dinner?"

The comment was presumptuous but he had to admire her audacity. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, amused.

"Is Suzy's okay with everybody?" There were nods of assent. "And we're not using your play money, J, I'm paying. You might've acted like a lunatic back there but I'm the one who had to unlock the stupid door ahead of time."

"She owns up - will wonders never cease?" That got a look but it failed to wipe the smug smile off his face. "So that's your regular, my regular, and a chicken mandarin salad, a medium unsweetened iced tea and a small…no…child-size frozen chocolate dessert."

Irina's jaw dropped involuntarily. He smiled.

"Be right back." Jareth ducked back out, quietly closed the door. Irina looked at Sarah, still stunned but Sarah merely looked begrudgingly amused.

"Showoff."

* * *

The rest of the evening went a lot more smoothly. Irina grilled Jareth some over dinner but it wasn't anything Sarah's parents wouldn't have done if they'd known she was spending a lot of time with a man from another planet. After a while she conversationally stepped back so she could watch them interact. It was so strange, she could see why Sarah was conflicted about the situation. They were both strong-willed and stubborn to a fault but, oddly enough, rather than just exploding they seemed to help even each other out. And whenever Jareth started getting a little mighty and aloof, Sarah calmly popped his bubble - and within seconds they were laughing. They teased each other like children, it was really something to see, but it was obvious to her that the feelings ran deeper than that; each was always careful of the other's boundaries and on the one occasion that Sarah jabbed him a little too hard apology was swift and it was instantly forgotten.

Jareth did a bit of investigating himself and found out more about Irina in the course of an evening than Sarah had learned from the woman over the course of a decade! Sarah watched in baffled silence as her best friend talked about the little village where she grew up and being forced to go to the state-run schools and what the fall of the Communist Party in Russia was like on the inside. She still carefully omitted the part where she'd left home in the middle of the night without telling anyone, leaving only a note on her bed, but from the sudden sympathy in his eyes Sarah knew that Jareth had seen it anyway (she asked him the next day what it was like but he refused to tell her. "Some memories are better left behind. I faded it a bit at the edges for her; it won't be so vivid now.") Irina had even briefly been engaged once, which was total news to Sarah.

"You were engaged?! Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"There was no reason to - it was ancient history by the time I met you."

_It's because he turned out to be …oh, how do you put it? __In the closet__, _Sarah heard Jareth say in her head and quickly covered her surprise by taking another sip of her chocolate shake. That explains why she had suspected Jareth so quickly!

"And those marks on your eyes do not look a bit like makeup. If anything, it looks tattooed on," Irina lightly joked for the first time all night. Jareth had to smirk. It seemed to be a universal conclusion.

"I for one am really looking forward to going back where this is not considered effeminate. I've seen women with dark markings on their chins before. Does that look masculine?"

Irina considered it. "I don't know. I suppose not. It is just common for your people to have different colors on their faces?"

"These are elemental markings. I experience most affinity with air. My mother and sister Morgan are both fire and Sylvanius is earth. We aren't sure about Kavin; his seems to be metal which is almost unheard of. His mark isn't on his face, either; it's on one of his hands, I forget which one. It's been a long time," he said quietly, looking down.

"Well, I sincerely hope that you get back safe and sound and soon." Irina yawned and looked at the clock in the kitchen. "I hate to break up this little party but I have to supervise another mechanic fix on the car tomorrow morning. It was good finally getting to know you, Jareth," she said, getting up and grabbing her purse as they all walked to the door.

"Wait," Jareth said. "Irina, you have been privy to a large amount of highly sensitive confidential information this evening and I would not have told you one word had I not felt that you were trustworthy but do remember my position. I must act to protect myself here and while I know you mean me no harm, I also appreciate the fact that you are human and mistakes can occur. Therefore, I desire to place a very light geis upon you; I assure you it will not interfere with your normal life at all."

Irina went to object but suddenly, she couldn't explain it, but she just knew in her gut that she could trust him once more and, to Sarah's amazement, she nodded assent. Jareth stood in front of her and raised his right hand in a strange sign.

"Irina Tereshkova, I place this geis upon you: that you cannot communicate any information about who I truly am or where I am truly from to any mortal but Sarah Williams, and if you ever try to you will be physically unable to do so." He lowered his hand. "That's all. It simply negates any personal responsibility you could ever have from being a part of this affair. And if you are ever dying to speak to someone about this or anything else for that matter, as long as I am on earth you can talk to me. We've spoken on the phone before and I am almost always here."

"I'm holding you to that," Irina half-joked, opening the door. She suddenly stopped and turned to face him. Concentrating a bit (unsure of how this worked) she deliberately shot him a mental message.

_You'd better take good care of Sarah._

She was smiling a little but the concern was serious. He simply nodded in acknowledgement.

_I will do whatever I can for her, whatever she allows. I __understand__, _she heard his voice clearly in her own head. There were goodbyes all around and then she walked out, closing the door. Sarah was eying Jareth a bit suspiciously.

"Okay, what was that that happened just now?"

He looked down with a bittersweet half-smile. "It was private. I think she still has her reservations about me."

"I can't imagine why!" Sarah shot back sarcastically, walking over to the couch and collapsing into it. "Look, I don't know how these things are done in your world, J, but taking an evening on the town and making it into a vague almost hostage-like situation isn't going to win you a lot of trust here."

"I suppose you're right," he sighed, walking over to the couch himself and sitting down alongside. "But after that it was fun," he said, pointedly looking at her with a teasing lip smile. She just shook her head with a rueful smirk. He was such an outrageous brat that she found herself oddly drawn to him.

"Just don't do that to anyone else. I'll have to think of an appropriate punishment if you do."

He was still smiling and the effect was making butterflies in her stomach.

"Can't wait, love."


	17. Ballroom Revisited, part 2

Chapter 17 - Ballroom Revisited, part 2

The entrees had come minutes ago but Sarah was still fidgeting with her fork so much that Jareth actually reached across the small table and gently but firmly grabbed her hand; she had been looking rather absent.

"Unless you've developed the ability to remotely digest via osmosis, you still need to actually put the food in your mouth, chew, and swallow, dear," he stated wryly, letting go of her and returning to his own dinner of local venison and organic seasonal produce. They were at the Gemini Café, fueling up for the rigorous exercise that was to come later that evening; the band that was always hired for swing night was already warming up upstairs.

Sarah commenced her own dinner of garlic linguini, pausing just before the first bite to say, "I just can't shake the feeling that that this is a date."

"Would it bother you terribly if it was?"

She met his eyes. That had definitely been a flirt but, as usual, he had too many emotions to read them clearly.

"I don't know actually," she surrendered a smile, taking a drink.

"Interesting that you think of that this late in the game. And what, pray tell, does that make all the other meals we've shared and places we've gone together?" He wasn't looking at her and his tone was conversationally pleasant and laid back but she could swear she could feel his attention.

"It's …just that dinner and dancing is more stereotypical and-"

"Then don't think about it." He met her eyes again. "Just enjoy."

The other conversations in the restaurant got loud as usual and soon their lack of verbal interaction didn't feel as awkward merely due to the noise level. They kept taking turns glancing at each other, though - often together - and Sarah couldn't keep her heart from involuntarily leaping at the puckish sparkle of delight in his eyes.

Jareth had had no trouble at all reading Sarah simply from her behavior. She had been at war with herself all evening and she was beginning to lose. _Sarah, Sarah, you __still__ think you can hide from me when your own body gives you away? Why fight so hard to deny what is obvious? Not for long, child - yes you still __are__ in a way. Not for long._ Actually, a part of him understood perfectly well why she was resisting: no matter how much time they spent together, no matter how comfortable they got, he was still an alien creature to her and it was something she was having a hard time dealing with when it came to these types of emotions. Still, it was invigorating watching her react to the slightest look, the slightest gesture, hyperaware of him in a way no woman had been in over a millennia.

The knowledge of his growing power over her this way was a little heady but he rationalized that some of their interactions were good practice for her; he was desensitizing her to her fear of relationships. The worrying bit was that after everything they had done to try to tip the scale in his favor, he still didn't have enough power. He had yet to hear back from Morgan after their brief, choppy communication. Maybe the Court had decided to let him fend for himself as an exile. It wasn't the first time that the thought had occurred to him but he was beginning to suspect it was the case in truth, at which point his sister couldn't persuade them to act otherwise. Or contact him. Which meant he was on his own to figure this out. If all went well this evening, however, he had a small extra plan, something new to try. He would have to wait and see how things went.

Sarah was starting to feel a little ridiculous by the time the whole-grain-crust rhubarb strawberry pie slice arrived. They unceremoniously split and devoured it and Jareth paid the waitress in real cash at Sarah's insistence; it had been a fairly expensive meal but the Gem was cash or check only in an extreme effort not to waste paper.

In retrospect a couple of days after-the-fact, Sarah belatedly realized that she couldn't properly remember going up the stairs to get to the dance floor. It had to have been the way he was looking back at her over his shoulder; his gaze had shut out the entire world. In reality, Jareth was terrified that she was going to panic and chicken out at the last minute and had taken the small liberty of lightly enchanting her and leading her up the staircase, releasing her once they were safely in the midst of the commotion of the upper room.

The band was roaring, the floor was packed and the old proprietress of the Gem was up there with them, cutting a rug in her Birkenstocks. Sarah jumped a little as if suddenly waking when she shouldn't have been asleep at all and Jareth let her take in the room and regain her bearings for a moment before leading her out to the floor. Her heart was pounding in her throat and she felt the slightest twinge of stage fright as she put her left hand on his shoulder and her right in his upturned gloveless hand that had been temporarily magicked clean of those exotic blue markings. His right hand was held gently but firmly at her waist. This was it.

They started conservatively with some of the easier steps first but before very long they were both getting into it, taking cues from the crowd, overemphasizing their movements and doing spins and even a couple small leaps. All of Sarah's apprehension had disappeared; she was genuinely having a good time and couldn't seem to stop smiling. Of course, part of her reaction was amusement because Jareth was finally loosening up and relaxing a little with the dance moves. Casual was simply something Jareth did not seem to do under any circumstances; even at his most informal moments he always seemed hyper-self-aware almost as if he were constantly performing. Sarah was seeing him being truly in the moment for the first time she could remember and some of what he was doing was downright silly; she simply couldn't get over the change in his demeanor. The whole experience was positively exhilarating.

For Jareth's part, he had simply succumbed to the sheer giddiness of the room and was figuring out what to do by merely reading the other dancer's minds. Whatever this was, it seemed to be doing the trick; his power was just flowing back at a nice steady pace and his dance partner gratefully seemed not to even notice what was happening to her. After about three numbers Sarah pulled him over to the mini bar for some badly needed refreshment. Her face was flushed but she was practically glowing as she sipped her lemon seltzer, watching the other eclectic pairs still on the floor. They actually didn't stand out too badly here.

_And even if we did I wouldn't __care_, Sarah thought suddenly, glancing at her own eclectic dance partner with a new feeling of unabashed boldness. She knew by the look in his eyes that he saw it and Sarah could've sworn the room was suddenly ten degrees hotter just from that deep knowing wolfish smile of his as he led her back out to the floor.

The next couple of hours were wild and saw them both laughing more than once; the band was bringing up the tempo with old house favorites like 'Sing Sing Sing' and 'Zoot Suit Riot.' Sarah was glad they'd been practicing different styles and tricks because they wound up using every last move they'd ever attempted, let alone got good at, and things didn't always go as planned under pressure - sometimes with hilariously bad results - but at least no one was getting injured. Miraculously, the over-the-shoulder flying stunt actually worked on the first try and even got a little applause. Jareth was a force of nature with a rakish grin and mad dance moves. He never seemed to tire now, although he was careful to let his partner take breaks when she needed to, which was becoming more often by the end of the second hour.

Sarah couldn't understand it. She was in excellent shape physically and in good overall health and she was keeping hydrated It wasn't too hot. Why on earth was she tiring so easily all-of-a-sudden? And then it dawned on her. The power. She was losing her power fast enough to physically weaken her temporarily. The memory of Jareth sprawled half-dead on the floor came over her like a bucket of ice water.

_Of course he can go forever now; he probably just got most of it back_. She looked over at him - they were along the wall again. He was obviously in very high spirits but she now noted that he was observing her very carefully, very closely; now that she understood she could see it. The plan had been a shining success but she couldn't afford to physically overextend herself, especially when she didn't understand the recovery process for a human. Leaning into his ear, she had to shout to be heard over the music.

"I think we're going to have to leave soon!"

Jareth simply nodded assent, offering her his arm, positively beaming with pride for her. She had given what she could. It was time for his surprise; he could sustain her for this. As they walked through the middle of the dance floor all the lights suddenly flowed into red and the disco ball in the ceiling ground to a halt. And so did all the people surrounding them! The band was silent. In fact, it was so quiet that their breathing sounded loud. At first Sarah was too dumbfounded to say anything. And then Jareth turned around and smiled at her, taking her left hand and placing it on his shoulder again, grasping her right and holding her body low, bending his knees.

"Jareth, what on earth are you-"

She was cut short by a sudden warm tingling that ran from where he was holding her side all through her to the extremities and suddenly she wasn't tired.

He leaned in and purred against her ear, "Just one more dance, love."

The sensation made Sarah's knees go weak but Jareth supported her for the briefest of moments. They were both in proper tango position now. They had only tried this a couple times at her apartment and even with the come-hither in place it had never gone well. The basic rhythm was fairly easy but Sarah had never been comfortable having to be that close to him while they were both moving and had simply refused at the end of only one short lesson in spite of his protests that the dance was considered 'traditional ballroom' now in spite of its past. But now, held close in this sea of static dancers, for the first time it wasn't awkward at all; to her surprise it actually felt quite nice and she wasn't nervous at all. In fact, she felt confident enough to do it, meeting his familiar gaze full-on with a little smile.

And then it started. Music immediately began to pound out of the sound system, an odd string quartet with a synthesized percussion track that almost beat like a heart. Jareth advanced on her to three 'Jaws'-like grates of cello and commenced the dance as the melody was ushered in - a female singer with a bizarre story of a song. Jareth pulled her for a quick, deep lunge-slide in time to sliding strings, only to switch to a side-advance style with them both faced the same way cheek-to-cheek for two measures, a brief dip, and back to the normal dance pattern.

Sarah's heart and brain were working overtime. It was his touch, the strong way he was leading her, how mind-stoppingly close they were physically, constantly walking in-between each other's legs like that. She was glad the lighting was already red because she could also feel that more than her face was flushed. He sent her for a quick spin and when he pulled her back in she saw him pluck a black fedora out of nowhere and place it on his head fittingly askew before taking her other hand again and the effect definitely hit mark; she could plainly see the fire in his eyes. Sarah had the sudden feeling of being back in that other ballroom, not as a victim and a little girl but as a _guest_ and a full-grown woman who had caught the eye and subsequent attention of the king. The feeling was heady and intensifying; to him, no one in this entire room mattered but her. His face was so close that if they were only one inch closer…

The string arrangement turned sensuous and he turned her around so they were both facing the same way with him behind her. His right hand snaked over her waist as he brought her other arm to his mouth and kissed the sensitive point on her elbow. She made an almost inaudible little sound and leaned back into him involuntarily, her breathing a little shaky. He crooned into her left ear, making her eyes close momentarily before turning her back around, holding her head lightly against his shoulder. It was an oddly tender and protective gesture as they continued to dance and Sarah found that indeed she felt safe with this strange, complicated, sexy man who was holding her like he'd been practicing for this moment his entire life.

Jareth knew that even if it meant never accomplishing his ends, he would gladly sabotage himself repeatedly just to have this wondrous point-in-time over and over again if it were possible. It was a dangerous idea but that's where his mind was as he brought them back to where they had started on the dance floor just in time for the last grates of the song. Sarah watched in dumb shock as he quickly straightened, stepped back, and, closing his eyes, made a small slow revolving motion with his pointer fingers. And, with a sound like a record player cranking up, the room slowly came back up to normal speed! People were dancing around them as if nothing had happened. The band played on. And suddenly Jareth looked worn out, but he was smiling at her in triumph as they descended the stairs back into the restaurant. Sarah had an inking she knew what she had just experienced and went to ask him but he stopped her, glancing at the crowd.

"Later, once we're in the car. Actually, if you give me your keys I can have it ready to go for you once you've finished doing what you need to here." His gloves discreetly reappeared in his hands and he manually put them on. Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"You feel comfortable starting my car?"

"Of course; I've watched you do it dozens of times."

Sarah still felt a little odd handing him the keys. "Just make sure to lock up once you're inside so nobody can just hop in and steal it. I'll be right out."

He simply nodded with a little lip smile and was out the door. Sarah let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding and went to the restroom. Afterwards, she was checking how she looked in the mirror before she left and realized that in spite of how much fun it had been - at times downright exhilarating - the night had made their relationship that much more awkward. Maybe the effect had been cumulative and she was only noticing it just now but Sarah knew that last dance, while carefully choreographed, had been no performance for either of them. That was real, and the prospect made her rather uneasy. Sure, there had been other signs but hardly anything so blatant (making out while drugged didn't count, her mind rationalized). They were going to have to come to terms with this and soon before it got too out-of-hand.

Sarah left the building, past the murals and the smokers, walking to her car, desperately trying to get her thoughts in order before having to face him. As promised, her vehicle was already running and, to her profound relief, Jareth was in the passenger seat and not playing with any of the controls. It wasn't that she didn't trust him; he was just too curious for his own good and sometimes having to leave him alone like that felt rather like leaving a small child who's going to tinker with everything the moment your back is turned. Sarah took a deep breath to steady her nerves as she opened the driver-side door and got inside. Jareth looked like he was about to burst at the seams with news.

"Sarah, I just did a manual power-level check on myself. It's jumped all the way up to three-quarters capacity in a single night! Passing grade, as you would say," he laughed a little. "The odds still aren't terribly stellar but I can technically begin to attempt to transport now!" This wasn't exactly what Sarah had anticipated hearing but it was still unmitigated good news.

"Well, that's… great!"

"It would be a little more heartening if I'd heard back from Morgan by now but, still, it's definitely headed in the right direction." He suddenly looked concerned. "How are you holding up, by-the-way? I've been trying to go easy with this because I don't know how much your body can take at one time and that was quite a drain tonight. I took the liberty of giving you a temporary energy boost from my own reserve to try to mitigate the effects but it won't last more than an hour or so."

"Well, I'm feeling pretty much okay right now but I was just about dead on my feet right before you did that."

He nodded grimly. "You'd better just rest tomorrow. Oh, yes, your question! You wanted to know what happened back there." The proverbial cat who ate the canary couldn't have possibly looked more smug. "You tell me."

"I've never seen anything like that! Everything just ground to a standstill in there. Did you just freeze everybody?"

The smile got bigger. He responded in a whisper. "I stopped time."

Sarah's jaw could've hit the floor.

"Don't be so surprised, love. I have to be able to do it to perform my duties as Goblin King. I altered time twice when we first met. And, as of tonight, I can do it once again."

Sarah felt terrible for what she was about to say and wondered if she should put it off but, in truth, she was scared that she wouldn't be able to screw up the courage again.

"Jareth, I feel like I'm about to stick my foot in my mouth and just ruin everything but this just keeps getting weirder and I can't stand not knowing anymore, the back-and-forth smoke-and-mirrors is just driving me crazy! Jareth…what are we? I mean, what kind of relationship is this really?" There, she'd said it. Even if she'd just totally blown it at least he finally knew how she felt. Confused.

The sudden turn of the conversation had been rather unexpected but Jareth knew from her tone and her demeanor that this question had been long in coming and he should've anticipated it a little sooner. He had never meant for things to get so convoluted between them, it had just sort of happened and he knew she deserved a straight answer. He calmly met her eyes and held them.

"It can be whatever you want, Sarah," he said quietly. He released her and her gaze instantly reverted to her lap. "I cannot deny that I care about you very much on quite a number of levels and I'm sorry if I've made you unduly uncomfortable. But I think you've already known that for some time," he smiled. "I will refrain from commenting on your more obvious reactions and feelings toward me but I do sense great hesitancy and qualms about this and both are quite reasonable under the circumstances, especially since I can't even guarantee I'm going to be here this time next week." He reached across the cabin and caught her chin, gently turning her to face him. "If I have gone too far, all you've ever had to do is tell me to stop. But I don't believe I have. Nevertheless, I will respect your wishes in this and consider the matter closed unless you choose to ever bring up the issue again for reconsideration. Is this acceptable, Sarah?"

"…yes. Thank you," she said quietly. He nodded with a little smile, letting go of her and buckling himself in. Sarah almost collapsed in relief. He had called her out but had left the matter entirely in her hands. And he hadn't said a single thing that she hadn't expected. She had been right. But now what?

"Good, now get me home so I can change out of this ridiculously stiff shirt!" he genuinely laughed. "How anyone finds starched cotton comfortable is beyond me!"

Sarah just rolled her eyes and shook her head with a half-smile, pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. No matter how either of them felt, certain things were obviously never going to change.

_(Author's Note: the song is "Coraline" by __Rasputina__ - go find a copy!)_


	18. Echoes and Shadows

Chapter 18 - Echoes and Shadows

True to his prediction, Sarah was dead exhausted for two whole days after the power-draining incident; she spent the following Saturday and Sunday almost entirely in bed, asleep. Jareth nervously kept watch over her, trying to remember the scanty knowledge he had of the human bioelectrical system and how it responded to the occult; it wasn't really what had happened but it was probably the only comparable thing as far as first aid went. He couldn't just keep feeding her energy, either, because that would tire her body out, too. She mostly just had to rest and keep her blood sugar and liquids up, which he carefully tended to the few hours she was awake. By Monday, she was sufficiently recovered to go back to work but only because her job was largely sedentary; she was still pretty weak. It took an entire week-and-a-half for her to bounce back fully. At Jareth's insistence, she had been going to parks in downtown Golden during her lunch break to 'ground' - just taking off her shoes and socks and trying to find a spot in the grass that wasn't covered in goose doo to stand for about 15-20 minutes.

"You are of the earth, Sarah, and being of the earth, it can heal you as I clearly cannot."

That's what he'd told her, anyway. She wasn't really sure what this was doing but, whatever-it-was, it seemed to help. After she was recovered she had taken to doing it after work when the weather permitted if it wasn't too late. For some strange reason, it helped her unwind, too.

It was around 4:00 p.m. on a Thursday and Sarah was just pulling her reclaimed-leather-mules back on in Parfet Park, sitting on the large, semi-circular cement bench over by the bronze dragon, when Jareth surprised her; she didn't even see him walk up.

"I'm glad to see you're still taking my little bit of advise to heart."

Sarah jumped a little but looking up, she smiled.

"J! How long have you been here?" She suddenly stopped smiling. "Please tell me you zapped-in someplace discreet."

His answer was a sly little glance to the left. The public bathrooms in the park. She nodded assent.

"You are getting better at this."

He simply shrugged, sitting down on the bench beside her. "Adapt or die is the basic rule of life in this world. I'm doing my best to adapt. Actually, that's why I'm out here. With most of my power back I'm beginning to notice how much more weak iron is making me merely by there being a greater comparison between 'weak' and 'strong' and staying in your apartment all day, or even in the city, is simply no longer an option. I've been coming out here to wander about the mesas daily while you are away at work and, between the exercise and being away from substances that weaken me, my energetic endurance is getting markedly better; I can to much more with the staff now. With any luck, I should be ready to try The Great Leap - at least partially - very soon." Abruptly he stopped and took her left wrist in his hand. Morgan had taught him how to do this eons ago but he'd never been very good at reading vitals this way. Nope, nothing. It was worth a try. Sarah had a quizzical look as he let go. "Guess I'll just have to ask. How are you holding up?"

"That's what you were trying to do?!" she laughed.

"I've always been miserable at medical magic. Reading minds is one thing; reading bodies is quite another animal altogether."

Sarah thought about it seriously. "I think I've been alright for at least a couple days, why?" She looked highly suspicious of where this was going. He smirked.

"Mostly concern, dear. I understand, I'm not going to use you that badly ever again. From now on anything I obtain from you power-wise is going to be small and incidental. No more grandiose schemes… for the time being anyway. No, I was actually wondering if you felt up to a small hike. I discovered something today that I'd like to show you."

Sarah knew that look - he was positively bursting at the seams - and surrendered a smile.

"Well, I guess I could do it but, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not dressed to go traipsing across the mesas after you. I'm not even wearing decent walking shoes." It was then that he shifted slightly and she realized that he had hidden a small cloth shopping bag behind his back. He handed it to her with a devious smile. Inside were her terrain sneakers, thick socks, and one of her more sturdy pairs of casual pants! She sighed in slight annoyance. "Jareth, what did I tell you about digging around in my closet?"

"I did not dig! I merely opened the door and it was all right up front. The socks are new…"

Looking closer, Sarah saw that they were still attached at the toes with a tag. She laughed, shaking her head. "Alright, wiseguy, give me a minute to change," she said, taking the parcel from him and walking to the bathroom.

In a few minutes they were on the road and Jareth was giving directions that clearly showed that he had no idea of how to drive where they were going but Sarah had a rough idea of where he was talking about and managed to find the trailhead anyway, parking along the side of the road. He had directed her to the south side of the mesa, barely a block away from the west side of the GELA complex. Jareth was positively giddy as they were getting out of the car. Sarah just kind of looked at him with an odd little smile and it did not go unnoticed.

"What's that face for?"

"Oh, nothing. I mean, it's great seeing you excited about being one with nature and everything but, you know, I've climbed this mountain before. Sure, Table Mesa has some great views but mostly what I remember is a lot of dead grass, small cacti, and rattlesnakes under every last scrub oak. I can't even begin to imagine what you think is going to be surprising up there."

Jareth was suddenly himself again, mysterious once more, the old guard back in place, and Sarah instantly rued saying anything. But he looked over his shoulder after her at the start of the path with a small tease of a smile.

"You'll just have to wait and see then, won't you?" he beckoned her, holding out his hand.

Barely five yards in, he deviated from the bicycle track, cutting across the open field. The wind always blew on top of the mesa; the parched, thick, thigh-high grass was waving and rippling like a surreal sea about them as they made their way across nowhere, with only the setting sun to show which way was west, the outside world completely hidden by the edges of the mesa. It was only when Jareth started hearing rattles coming from all directions at once that he stopped momentarily. Concentrating, he closed his hands together, cupped, and when he opened them again they contained a small crystal, about the size of a large marble, mounted with a little fine wirework onto a short necklace like a pendant. Stepping behind Sarah, he secured it about her neck, carefully pulling her hair out from underneath the chain. It looked a bit heavy but it barely weighed anything; if she closed her eyes, she could barely feel it at all.

"Precaution, love. I don't have the power to keep all the snakes at bay and teleport us both back when we're finished - we'll have lost the sun by the time we reach our destination and I don't relish the idea of you making this trek back in the dark even with me. The item I just made you will keep anything within ten feet of you docile enough not to strike, even if you accidentally step on one. Poisonous creatures simply aren't a problem for me - my body can handle most earth-made organic toxins. Shall we?"

Sarah fingered the pendant. "Okay, this is getting exciting."

"Sarah, Sarah," he tisked, "where's that indomitable spirit of adventure? You're a scientist, aren't you even just a little curious as to what's out there?" That little knowing smile was both teasing and patient. Sarah just rolled her eyes with a sigh and took his hand again.

They walked for a long time, past a small broken segment of a rusted barbed wire fence that was goodness-knows how old, past the odd kitchen sink and washing machine that had been dragged all the way out here because someone had been too lazy to take them to the dump, through a gradual but deep ravine with a few scraggly small trees, past a rusted-out stripped car from the forties that was completely riddled with bullet holes. The very earth under their feet was worn away in tiny areas and the rock of the mesa was visible, red and green with lichen, quartz sparkling in the dying sun. At last they came to a natural landmark: a large outcropping of white rock, honeycombed with two-inch holes. Masses of sharp-winged, bright-voiced little birds were zooming in and out of the structure like it was a high-rise, wheeling above in the air currents, dive-bombing and chasing each other just for fun. The cacophony echoed out across the plain. Jareth stopped, seemingly checked his bearings, and they headed off again due east.

Sarah sincerely hoped he knew where he was going and how long it would take to walk there; even now the sunlight was beginning to dim. It wasn't much longer before they reached a portion of the east edge of the mesa. She could see the Denver skyscrapers clearly in the distance, the city starting to light up at the beginning of the evening, and in their immediate surroundings there was a new housing development under construction not seven blocks from where they were. She breathed in the cool, clear air as she took in the view, stretching her legs.

"Alright, J, it is pretty out here. Was this it or was there something else?"

"Something else - we've not even arrived yet. One little drop to go. Give us both your hands; the last part's pretty steep."

Slowly, carefully, with him climbing down backwards one foothold at a time, he led her halfway down the side of the jagged cliff-face to a very thin, vertical opening in the rock. He motioned for her to be silent and listen. To Sarah's complete surprise, she heard the distinct sound of water trickling inside!

"You're kidding me - this is a cave?!"

His expression was suddenly completely serious. "Sarah, where I am about to take you, no living man has walked in almost two-hundred years. I sense the dead here, but we may enter as long as we are courteous and completely quiet within these chambers. If we need to communicate, we can do so easily in thought. Come."

Sarah had heard the story of Golden long ago at the Visitor Center when she first came to the area to work. An odd, vague story about the valley being haunted after an old Indian battle, how the natives wanted nothing to do with the land between the mesas and the mountains and how the miners thoughtlessly moved in and built the beginnings of a boom town. How lucky many of them were, how the boom town turned into a settlement and then a city, how this was just a silly superstition that had worked in the white man's favor. But if Jareth was right, those ghosts of those wrongly-slain Ute warriors were real, and when men re-entered that cursed valley, they had gone somewhere else. Here.

Sarah took a deep breath and followed him inside.

In the dark, her crystal started to glow with a pale, blue light, just enough to see the somewhat uneven cavern floor ahead of her feet; it was dropping quickly but steadily down a thin passageway. Jareth had produced a full-sized crystal of his own and was illuminating the area ahead of them with the same blue wash of light, just a little stronger. At last they came down into a large open room that had once been a lava chamber; the mesa was ultimately of volcanic origin rather than a more gradual process of erosion or upheaval. The Table Mountain formation on the west side was in fact the remnant of the cone. Many natural springs ran under the mesas and while the local brewery had a monopoly on the most productive one, there were clearly others running freely and untapped under here. Crystal Spring hadn't been in use since 1900 and the resulting runoff from it and other smaller producers had resulted in a series of shallow lakes deep within the cave, most just a few feet down but some diving down as much as several stories below farther in. They quickly crossed the chamber with ease and, coming through a small, low opening in a wall, they finally reached the water's edge. Sarah did a double-take: there was a small white boat like a cross between a shallow canoe and a gondola with crystals hung from both ends, waiting for them!

'_I got permission to make it earlier today,' _Jareth thought clearly in her mind. '_Watch your step.'_

Holding the small vessel steady, he helped her climb inside, then boarded himself and remained standing as he shoved off from shore with a long pole, ferrying them farther into the abyss.

The view was incredible, in no small part because Sarah had been completely unaware that this even existed, but the feeling of being watched had grown positively intense as they took to the water and the temperature had certainly taken a dive. They could almost see their breath. She felt she was in Chiron's barge on the river Styx and briefly had the crazy thought that there should be a gold coin in her mouth for the boatman. The bubbling, trickling sound got louder as they went farther in; they both had to duck to get through a section. Rainwater from the surface of the mountain found its way down here through miniscule cracks in the rock above and medium-sized off-white stalactites were forming along areas of the wildly uneven ceiling. Even without the prospect of disturbing the dead, they were probably wise not to make too much noise in here anyway; who knew how stable any of these overhead rock formations were. The only sound they contributed was the gentle lapping of the water against the wood their makeshift vessel. Was it wood, she suddenly thought? There was no way of knowing that, either. The light crystals were doing much more than making the cave above visible. The water below them was remarkably clear, equally illuminated. For all the cold and dark and foreboding, it was a beautiful sanctuary.

And then Sarah spotted the snake - it had just about come fully into the boat on the right side, less than six inches away from her, when Jareth felt her panic. In one lightning-quick maneuver, he scooped it off with the pole and flung it into the water at the far end of the chamber. He knelt down behind Sarah as she caught her breath.

'_Easy__,' _she felt his warm voice as he held her shoulders, _'it wouldn't have harmed you, remember? Look what it was after,'_ he pointed into the water. Leery now, Sarah carefully peered over the edge… and two small, blind, colorless cave fish darted by! They were skinny but about five or six inches long. She realized then that there were more on the far side of the room, as if there was something to eat over there, coming up from below with the spring. _'They used to be so large and plentiful here that men would risk coming down into these caves to catch them!'_ Jareth suddenly froze at the beginning of a sentence then relaxed again. _'Time to go_.'

He stood back up and slowly navigated them to shore, two rooms back now. Upon disembarking, the boat simply vanished. Sarah could swear there was faint whispering far away in the back chambers beyond where they had been. They quickly climbed back up to the thin mouth of the cave and exited unscathed.

It had gotten considerably darker since they entered but Jareth insisted on leading her the rest of the way down to ground level; it was a much easier slope once past the exposed rock. He immediately headed over to a particular spot, overgrown with weeds and bracken. It was a tiny spring! Pushing back the undergrowth, Jareth knelt and cupped his hands, filled them with ice-cold water from under the mountain, and drank long and deep. He finally stood, wiping his mouth dry with a rakish smile.

"It's good - try it," he said, holding the brush out of the way so Sarah could get down. The water was so cold it stung her hands but it tasted of minerals, of the earth, with just the smallest tang of sulfur. This one obviously ran very deep, right down to the end of the volcano. Sarah drank her fill but as she stood up she noticed that Jareth was watching the cave, listening to something she couldn't hear. He seemed to nod assent and turned to her. Sarah hadn't worn much jewelry that day - just a pair of amethyst dangle earrings. They would have to do.

"Sarah, do those earrings have any personal or emotional significance for you?"

She shook her head no. "Not particularly. Why?"

"Good, then hand them over; I'll buy you another pair at the lapidary. We must each leave something here," he said quietly. Sarah had an odd feeling of déjà vu as she took them off. So there were places like this on earth, too.

"What about you?"

Jareth pulled his altered ankh sunglasses with the solid-silver rims and ear pieces out of the front pocket of his shirt. "I believe these will suffice. I'm going to send you back to the car ahead of me. I shall join you shortly. Close your eyes."

Sarah did so, a little uneasy at the prospect of doing this alone, and felt the wind whip up around her from all directions for a second, then stop. She cracked open one eye and saw that she was behind a dead elm tree by the side of the road, just yards from her car.

Jareth picked his way back up the side of the mesa to the thin crag in the rock and carefully reached in, laying the earrings and glasses inside along the near cave wall as far as his arm would reach without stepping inside, and said a silent prayer to whatever god would listen for the human souls who were doomed to roam these hills, this valley.

Unlike him, they could never go home.


	19. Forbidden Fruit

Chapter 19 - Forbidden Fruit

The dinner was prepared. The candles were lit. The music was in place for later and so was the spell that altered his bed into a low stage with a Persian rug. With any luck, Sarah wouldn't have to work a long day. She should be home any minute now. Earlier that day, Jareth had finally received the long-awaited communication from Morgan that contained what she had gleaned from the bylaws and fine print that governed their world and his fears were confirmed: if he didn't plan on waiting for Sarah to die, one way or another he had to bring her back with him. She either had to marry him to release him out of that contract or they would have to forcibly drain her, an idea he found quite unsavory. The only other chance was if it would transfer itself to its rightful owner during physical bonding, which in itself concluded with her going with him due to how it changed a human but perhaps it was the least painful of the above choices. At least it was pleasurable and afterwards if she wanted nothing to do with him she could go to the human colony; it was close enough that she wouldn't even feel the pull of the connection. Morgan still had no idea that he had already located Sarah; his messages were choppy at best and they didn't seem to be getting any better so he mostly listened. She actually apologized this time, almost as if she anticipated never seeing him again.

"I am sorry that I have failed you, brother mine. Perhaps we shall meet again in another world."

"You didn't fail-"

And then the connection was gone. So here he was, prepared to completely sunder the precious trust that he had been cultivating between them. He had felt strangely all afternoon; guilt was an emotion he wasn't used to and he was doing his best to ignore it. Better that he do this himself than leave her to the mercy of his peers. At last he heard the sound of her key in the lock and he vanished.

Sarah opened the door and did a double-take. The blinds were closed, shutting out the evening light. All the lights were off but it wasn't dark - there were white candles of various thicknesses strategically placed all throughout her living room; they all had a kind of magic glitter coating them like the one she had seen in that oubliette. She had a sudden feeling of trepidation. What on earth was going on? She cautiously came in and closed the door.

"Jareth?"

No response. She put her things down. The place definitely smelled like he had just prepared dinner. She walked into the kitchen and found a veritable banquet laid out: an herbed-roasted chicken, an assortment of colorful root vegetables and a platter of fresh fruit festooned the little table along with more candles. The two place settings looked like they should've been in a museum: the flatware was carved light-green marble with a Celtic knot work border that matched the silverware, a two-pronged fork and a sharp-looking unserrated knife. But the most notable thing was what Sarah guessed were wine goblets: they were carved from solid amethyst with gold trim but were very broad and shallow with a short stem - she wasn't even sure how to pick one up! Jareth appeared right behind her.

"Surprise."

She jumped slightly but the reaction was considerably muted compared to what it used to be. She sighed with a smirk.

"You," she looked over her shoulder.

"Were you expecting someone else?" he lightly teased.

"You said you were going to stop doing that."

"But then it wouldn't have been a surprise, now would it?" he smiled. She suddenly noticed as he stepped to her side that he was wearing some of the earth clothing she had bought him, the black outfit.

"Oh, it's a surprise," she nodded at the table, smiling. "What's the occasion?"

"I finally got the information I needed today from my sister. I should be able to return home four days hence on the full of the moon, thanks to you." He brought the back of her right hand to his lips and lightly kissed it. "I thought a celebration was in order." He gestured her to her seat and pulled out the chair for her, pushing it in neatly as she sat down.

Four days! It felt strangely quick after all those months living under the same roof. She never would've guessed it the day he charged back into her life at the Gemini Café but she was going to miss him terribly when he left, she thought as she watched him take his own seat across from her with a bit of a knowing smile lingering about his face. He made a rising gesture with his left hand and the goblets filled with white wine from the bottom up. Sarah lightly gasped but it melted into a fond smirk.

"You just have to show off."

Jareth shrugged. "It's my nature." He scooped up his goblet with his whole hand, the stem wedged between his fingers. "To the best hostess in two worlds and a bright future for us both."

Sarah managed to pick hers up similarly and they reached across the table and toasted with a crystalline clink. Sarah took a swallow but Jareth knocked back his like a shot and refilled his goblet once he'd put it back down.

"Where's that coming from anyway?"

"Your pantry, next to the tequila," he stated wryly, getting up to serve her. "White or dark meat?"

"White, please." They'd shared plenty of meals together but this one felt different somehow, like he was going out of his way to pamper her. Probably because it was his last chance to do so. He finished slicing her one of the breasts, putting it on her plate before serving himself a thigh and drumstick.

"Go ahead and start before it gets cold," he gestured to the rest of it. "I hope you like it. This was as close as I could come to recreating the indigenous foodstuffs of my realm. We buy imports from my brother Sylvanias' kingdom to the north and a few specialties from the human colony but this is what is native to the Labyrinth land itself. I would've brought some over with the dishes and whatnot but humans can't eat faery food without _staying_ there; it's the law."

Sarah froze. "But the peach!"

"What peach?"

She almost started to gape at the realization but wisely stuffed her mouth with some herbed purple carrots instead. Savory and spicy with just a twinge of mint. Not bad. She nodded approval. He quirked a smile and sat back down to devour his own meal.

"You know, your local law enforcement is quite the nuisance," he said between bites.

"Oh no, what did you do now?" she groaned.

"Apparently having a fire outside is illegal in this city. Ridiculous ordinance. Not to worry, I paid the ticket but I was forced to finish preparing this meal on the roof of your building, dispelling the smoke to remain undetected."

"You cooked this on top of my apartment complex?"

"Yes," he said matter-of-factly. Sarah quietly laughed to herself, shaking her head a little, and started on the chicken; it was seasoned similarly but a bit more sweet, honey glaze maybe.

"What?"

"Remind me to show you a grocery store rotisserie," she smiled, taking another sip of wine.

"Speaking of innovation, how's the great invention of the 21st earth century coming along? Almost finished?"

"Oh, it's finished all right," she laughed humorlessly, eying her plate and pointedly spearing a few raspberries. "In fact, it's cancelled."

Jareth stopped in mid fork-lift and put both utensils down on his plate with an immediate look of sympathy. "Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry love. Did the extra time not help, then?"

She shook her head no. "We've been going around in circles with this thing. There are too many interconnected problems and no foreseeable solutions that work for all of them at once. It was a pipe dream that we would be able to do this. It's all it ever was. People have been trying to construct a vehicle like this since the solar battery was invented. All we've done is proven that it's impossible."

He reached way across the table to put his hand on hers for a moment, a small gesture of support. He withdrew it and sat back up. "So, what happens next?"

"Well, Nikola Motors ships out and takes their business elsewhere. Everyone on this project will be reassigned new tasks on Monday. There's been some talk of algae that produces more than one kind of fuel. Lots of genetic engineering." She didn't sound very excited and he didn't wonder why; it sounded terribly boring in comparison to what she'd just been working on.

"Will you still be with Irina?"

Sarah shook her head no. "They don't like to partner us up with the same people twice in a row. Theory is if you mix us up, new ideas might come from different combinations of people. I'll still see her around, just not as much." Sarah wasn't entirely comfortable with where this conversation was going; she was going to be awfully lonely losing both of them at the same time. She decided to try to change the topic. "Any big plans for when you get home?"

Jareth sighed. "Try to assess the damage and go from there, I imagine. I'd really rather not think about it right now."

She nodded. The remainder of the meal was spent in awkward silence. For all his outward reserve, Sarah could tell he was a little tense but she wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe he had already been thinking plenty about going home assembling this meal. No doubt he was right; it was going to be a mess if the little she had seen was any indication of the level of havoc those creatures were capable of. She probably wouldn't be looking forward to going home to that, either. At length when they were both finished with the dinner and the rest of the bird was put away, the tray of fruit was the centerpiece of the table and they each had a small plate and a fruit knife. Sarah had been doing her best to ignore it all meal but Jareth now reached forward with a quietly teasing little smile and took the rather large extremely ripe peach from the center of the arrangement and halved it, offering her the side without the pit. Sarah hadn't touched so much as peach-flavored lip balm since that incident, nevermind the actual fruit. She knew he was trying to bury the last of the hatchet but her knee-jerk apprehension was a very old habit by now.

"Is there anything special I need to know about this one?" she asked, eying it carefully.

"It came from a farmers' market downtown, along with the rest of the meal. The lady who sold them to me said rather proudly that they were from Palisade as if I should know the place."

"It's only the best peach growing community in the state."

"There you have it, then," he smiled. Sarah cautiously took it from him and placed it on her plate. It smelled ripely perfumed. He looked a bit sad at her hesitancy. "It's a pity you can't eat your favorite fruit," he said quietly. Jareth raised his half, mock-toasted her and took a deliberately large mouthful of it. She couldn't help but smile as his cheeks bulged and the juice ran down his chin. Quickly before she could think about it she picked hers up and took a bite. And almost cried - at how long it had been since she'd had one! It was perfect! She didn't stop devouring it until it was gone and her face was a mess. She didn't realize until she was licking off her fingers that Jareth had swallowed and stopped eating to watch her. He was sporting a triumphant smile. She embarrassedly wiped off her face with her linen napkin and he resumed eating. Sarah sighed, defeated.

"Did you get any more?"

"There's a whole bag of them in the cupboard," he pointed to one of the lower ones. "Still hungry?"

"Maybe later. That was quite the feast. Thank you."

"Not at all." _In less than a day you'll be cursing my name at the top of your __lungs__. If I'm lucky. Now to put the rest of the plan into play._ He hated this feeling, that he was forced into being her adversary once more but if he waited 50 years for her to die he wouldn't have anything to go home to except a long prison sentence in all probability for abandoning his kingdom. If there was any kingdom left. So he finished the wine in his goblet - not that it had any effect at all but he could always hope - and proceeded to introduce his trap. If it worked she wouldn't even realize what was really going on until it was far too late to stop. "Of course, it wouldn't be a real banquet unless there was some entertainment."

"I was going to ask you what that area over there was for. Is it a stage?"

_You have no idea. _"Yes."

"So, what did you have in mind?"

"Well," he leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful, "every man, woman and child of my people can sing, so that really isn't anything spectacularly interesting and we can all do showy magic when we feel like it but that's more of a competition atmosphere and those can get pretty ugly all depending on who's playing. There are usually dancers," he stated rather pointedly, looking at her. Sarah suddenly blushed, scandalized as the idea sunk in.

"I'm not getting up there and shaking my stuff just because you made dinner!" she laughed. He had known she would refuse but the idea had to be planted suggestively for what he was about to do to have full effect. He simply shrugged as if it was nothing.

"Suit yourself," he said, getting up and casually stripping off his shirt, walking over to the low stage. Sarah's jaw involuntarily dropped and she immediately averted her eyes, her cheeks flame red. He turned to face her and smiled. It was working beautifully. "I thought it was acceptable for a man to be seen without his shirt in this culture. Was I wrong?"

"No, but-"

"Then what's the problem?"

She got up the nerve to look him in the eye. His playful expression was a challenge. If they were just friends, she shouldn't be reacting this way. It was a dirty trick but he was technically in the right. He was so pale he looked like a marble statue with more of his skin exposed. Other than that he looked like a normal human man. Except that he was uncannily gorgeous. His build was deceptively slight but fine, smooth muscles rippled under the skin as he moved. She couldn't tear her eyes away as rude as she knew it was to stare but she couldn't help herself. He was busy ignoring her for the moment, seemingly oblivious to her open appraisal as he made a couple of crystals and set them in low sconces at the corners of the small stage, where they turned to flame. With a slight gesture of his left hand, all of the candles in the room were extinguished, leaving the torches at the foot of the stage as the only source of light. After a moment's thought he removed his boots as well, revealing bare feet; better to hedge the bet than to be sorry afterwards. He stood back up and produced another crystal. The firelight flickered, illuminating the variations in his body and casting shadows about the room.

"And what would you call this exactly?"

_Entrapment._ "Crystal Dancing." He began to move the sphere back and forth over his right hand, locking eyes with her. She held it for a moment, then looked away again with self-conscious laughter. "Sarah, it defeats the purpose if you're not going to even deign to watch."

"I can't watch you do this!" she laughed. She was still resistant but her guard was coming down.

"Why not?" His tone was open and frank. Clearly he saw nothing odd about this situation and thought she was just being a prude. Maybe she was. Or maybe she wasn't comfortable letting him know just how much he was affecting her like this. Was that the point?

"Okay, I know I'm going to sound old-fashioned and stodgy here but why did you take your shirt off?"

"Because the crystals fall off too easily with bulky clothing, now are you going to watch or should I make you get up here?"

She wordlessly spluttered. This would've been so painfully easy with full eye contact. Leave it up to Sarah to make things challenging. He sighed with a rueful little smirk, producing a small black scarf.

"For your ease," he said flatly. She looked up again out of curiosity in time to see him bring it up to his face and tie it over his eyes like a blindfold. "I promise not to watch you." _I should be able to __hear__ everything I need to know._

He made an obscure gesture with his right hand and the stereo came on all by itself. Female voices and percussion filled the room with a Spanish guitar and violin. She wasn't familiar with the song but it sounded like one of the Mediaeval Baebes albums he had purchased. It was almost a little gypsyish; she couldn't understand most of the words in spite of the fact that it was technically just a variant of English. The reddish firelight illuminated him to perfection. The crystal sparkled and split into two and he began rolling them over his forearms in tandem. He arched up and the left one glided up his arm and over the back of his neck to the other side. They played fluidly over his taut muscles, his porcelain flesh, over his shoulder blades, across his chest and abdomen. One he rode down to his navel; it trembled for a moment before he used his muscles like a belly dancer to shoot it back upward again. Another spark. Now there were four. He had incredible balance, poise and strength. He was so beautiful Sarah couldn't stop staring. She felt ashamed at the feelings she was experiencing but pure need was starting to override everything else. She suddenly didn't trust her hands and had to fight the ridiculous urge to sit on them. There was this wild compulsion to touch him, to know that soft smooth skin and what lay beneath. One of the crystals glided across his face, lightly brushing his lips before it ran down the side of his neck.

_Oh god_. Sarah wasn't accustomed to lust but she had never wanted a man so badly in her entire life, it almost scared her. Perhaps he wanted her, too, and this was his bizarre way of testing the waters, to see how she reacted; that certainly sounded like him. The thought alone made her pulse hammer and she swallowed, the room suddenly feeling too hot. Was she really ready to do this? Her body was practically screaming yes but a real relationship was impossible - he was leaving in less than a week! The desperation of the situation only seemed to fuel her desire further; the fact that they didn't have all the time in the world, that brief passion was all they could ever have. Odd shadows had started streaking across the walls with the pounding percussion and fiery flamenco guitar. He had brought all four crystals back to his hands and on the last grating violin strokes he threw them each into the air, letting one after another explode in a lightning-fast burst of flame, and ripped off the blindfold with a triumphant smile. She was ready: her eyes were wide and dilated, her cheeks flushed and her breath just coming in shallow little gasps.

"What? No applause? I'm insulted," he turned his nose up in a playful snit, slyly glancing back to her with a secretive little smile starting to leak across his face. She was still staring.

"I've never seen anything like that in my life!"

"Finish that up and get over here," he gestured to her wine goblet, turning aside to form another crystal. Sarah looked down at her drink for a moment then hurried the contents down her throat before she had time to think and got up, pushing in her chair. He had left the music on and a softer tune was playing that she couldn't understand at all; it might've been in Latin. The strains of harps pervaded the room as she crossed over to the small stage, stepping up.

"Shoes off, love; balance is a must."

"The blouse is staying on."

He easily conceded. "It shouldn't be a problem; it's close-fitted and your arms are mostly free. Now then," he stepped up behind her, lifting her right hand by the wrist and straightening it with the backside up. "I can't force your hand to do this - I could hurt you too easily - but you need to form a slight cup with the back of your hand like this, fingers closed," and he showed her with his right hand.

"Like this?"

"Less curvature on the fingers…not bad." He produced a crystal in his left hand and brought it over to rest balanced on his right, reaching in front of her to do it. Sarah suddenly laughed at what was going on.

"Something amusing?"

"You're being this close on purpose!"

Jareth seemed to think for a moment. "Yes, I knew there was something I liked about teaching this," he said flirtily. "You can see what I'm doing better from this vantage. So the crystal comes up over the fingertips to rest in the palm. Now you try," he said, placing the orb on the back of her own hand, just between her flattened knuckles. Sarah managed to balance it a moment but she misjudged where the weight would go and it went flying off her fingertips to smash into the floor, making her jump slightly.

"Sorry," she said, embarrassed.

"Nothing to be sorry about, you're just starting" he reassured her warmly. "I've smashed millions. Try it again?"

She did - to the exact same result.

"This is ridiculous! How long did it take you to learn how to do that?"

"A while. Can I just show you how it's supposed to be? Let you get a feel for the weight and balance?"

"You mean just running it over me?" She suddenly flushed slightly - the act wasn't physically touching her but it was so close.

He felt her body react so quickly at the thought. Yes, she was definitely ready.

"Not entirely. You have to help me, dear. They won't fall off, though."

"Okay," she said quietly, not even daring to look at him. He moved closer. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck through her blouse and it was making it harder to concentrate. He placed another crystal on her right hand and it stayed this time. When she arched her hand back it rolled neatly into her palm. She tested it by turning her hand upsidedown - it stuck on, still rolling a bit.

"You never believe me; you always have to see for yourself. So be it," he said quietly, bringing up her left hand to her right. The statement didn't hold the harshness or pain that such from him would've once held. It almost sounded a little regretfully fond.

He brought her hands together at the wrists and had her mimic him for a moment. The crystal rolled effortlessly over to her left hand where she began to turn it back and forth with unnatural ease. All that was making this challenging was his proximity, his attention, his radiant body heat. She was having to fight the urge to look down at his feet; they were right behind her. Or the rest of him. Following his hand, her arm lifted gracefully and the crystal suddenly journeyed up it. The slight weight passed sensuously over her high shoulder muscles, just behind her neck, and traveled fluidly down the other arm to the waiting palm. He added another to her occupied hand.

It was surprisingly relaxing, like those Chinese medicine balls, not feeling too big for her hands in spite of their size. Or maybe it was just him making it seem so, she wasn't really paying very much attention to who was causing what right now, she was just trying to keep them going. One strayed out of her hand, following his, and she found herself leaning back slightly as it passed her neck in the front. Her head tipped back automatically and she found herself almost face-to-face, the firelight dancing in his eyes, as he guided it across from only an inch away, reaching around her, until it reached its' destination in the left hand. Her breathing had gotten a little quicker. He added the third to the left hand.

She was barely paying him any attention now; all her concentration was on the task at hand, but her body was still registering his closeness. Had he moved closer? She honestly didn't know. It felt wonderful, though. She was almost totally relaxed but the mixture of what she was doing and the singing coming from everywhere was just playing havoc with her senses, starting to blur the stimuli together. The third from the left hand strayed slowly up the inside of her arm this time. At the same time a fourth appeared in her right hand and after a few twirls it, too, started its' way up. He brought her wrists together and with a quick movement all changed sides - the ones in the hands switched and the two going up passed each other in front, one over her neck, the other over her bosom. As they fell into they're prospective hands to twirl she felt another on back of her neck - or was it a crescendo in the sweet music? - only to belatedly realize that it was his _mouth_. Her eyes slid closed in pleasure as he brought his hand up and one of the now-warm crystals flowed up her arm, over the side of her neck, between her breasts down to her abdomen, exerting slight pressure as she leaned back. His trail of slow, hot kisses followed around the left side of her neck up to the back of her ear. She found herself clutching the last two for dear life as the other ran up the opposite side to dandle over her right shoulder, kneading the muscles. Her resistance snapped. With a little cry she threw the crystals she'd been gripping in her hands violently to the floor and the others fell off as she feverishly spun around and kissed him full on the mouth, gripping his shoulders instead. He was only too happy to oblige her and soon his arms were snaked around her back, holding her close, supporting her weak knees, cradling her head back a bit as he opened her mouth to devour her alive with kisses. She'd never felt anything like it in her entire life; all those wasted years, all those other guys she dated paled to _nothing_ in the face of this storm. Her hands frantically roamed his back and as surely as she could feel her desire mounting, so was his.

This was it. He was starting to come out of his skin - literally - his spirit wings rising, rippling. He could feel his power expanding, hovering, waiting to swoop down and strike like a bird of prey just at the moment his prey weakened beneath him and bodily begged for precisely this kind of a demise when suddenly something alien within him screamed NO! and he broke out of the embrace abruptly, pacing away angrily.

"Damn it all, I can't do it!" he exclaimed, sounding a bit strangled. Sarah was shocked back to reality fast as lightning… and the fact that he had just walked away from _that_…

"Jareth?" She sounded small and fragile. He immediately turned to her, his expression softened with tenderness and familiarity. He came back and just held her, lightly panting as his breathing returned to normal. Sarah belatedly noticed that there were golden sparkles of light surrounding him but they were receding back into his body and she was suddenly very uneasy. What had he just stopped? Jareth finally pulled back to look at her, serious once more.

"I cannot…pleasure you, as I wish."

"What…what just happened back there? There had better be a damn good explanation for this."

He sighed, closing his eyes. "You're going to hate me."

"Jareth? I need to know."

He took a deep breath. "It's evolution, physically strong traits being passed on to ensure the survival of a species." He opened his eyes. "In order for you to safely carry my seed to term, you yourself would have to be changed. This…arranges for that."

"You're planning on getting me pregnant?!"

"By the heavens, no!" he laughed.

"Then what the hell is going on?!"

He started again quietly. "The change would happen anyway."

"…what kind of change are we talking about here? Do I grow an extra organ? Does my skin go pale?"

"If only it were that easy, love," he smiled sadly. The smile dropped off his face. "I may appear to be compatible enough in this form but there are vast physical differences between us. In order for me to shape shift, my body vibrates at a much higher rate than your unchanging, solid form. If we were to bond, you would be pulled up to that vibration. Permanently." Sarah slowly gasped, her eyes going wide. "That isn't all. Your body, of course, could never survive such a bonding unaided. In short, you would become parasitically dependent upon my personal energy in order to live, bound intrinsically to my life force, living as long as I can, and bestowed with the patience to endure the ages with me." He paused. "If you remained aboveground without me, you would die in under three days."

For the first time in over five months the man in her arms was once again an alien creature, something to be feared, something infinitely dangerous, and she pulled out of his embrace, getting off the stage, backing away toward the door. He looked worried and unsure.

"Sarah?"

"Get away from me!" Her voice was starting to break as if she was about to cry. "How…how could you…you betrayed me! But why?!" she finally sobbed. He walked around the coffee table and defeatedly sank down onto the couch.

"Morgan told me that I had to bring you with me, that they could siphon off the power there safely. I knew you would never agree to go. I could not bring myself to drug or bespell you," he said quietly, bowing his head in shame.

"So you were just going to trap me for eternity! How thoughtful!"

"**THE ONLY OTHER WAY IS TO ****MARRY**** YOU!**" he finally shouted in frustration. Sarah forgot to breathe for a minute.

"…are you serious? You and I would have to…"

"In every last physical, legal, and spiritual aspect of the word, yes." he said gravely.

"But why…how could that even…"

"I locked sidhe wedding vows into your banishment of me," he laughed helplessly. "I don't even know why they popped into my head, they just did and…" He shook his head with a sigh, looking lost. "I care more for you than I have cared for any creature in my entire life." He gave a mirthless laugh. "And here you are, terrified of me again because I couldn't go through with it and had to confess all," he threw his arms up, "- because I care for you! It doesn't make any bloody sense! Something must be wrong with me," he said, sounding a bit embarrassed and worried. "What in Underground am I supposed to do _now_!? That was my last chance." This was it then, he thought. No way home. He would have to get a job and move out and pretend to be human until she died. He shook his head quickly, trying to shaking the emotion off. "I am sorry to have troubled you. I'll just get my things and be on my way," he said quietly. With a flippant wave of his hand everything was back to normal and the lights were on. He got up and walked over to the air mattress and grabbed the few articles of clothing, books and CDs he had hidden behind it, throwing his shirt back on. Sarah had been too shocked to speak, listening to him, watching, but she couldn't shake something he had said. He was in the middle of putting it all in a small duffle bag he had just whipped together out of nothing.

"You just said you cared for me more than anyone else in your life."

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" he stated coldly. "Never did. I tried telling you before but you clearly don't reciprocate," he stated, standing and slinging the bag over his shoulder, walking toward the door, "so there's no point in dragging this-"

"No, wait! Jareth, wait." He turned to face her. "You mean to tell me that all of…that," she gestured behind them, "… that was genuine?"

"Every last second. It is a memory I will treasure," he bowed slightly and went to grasp the handle. She practically leapt in front of him, blocking it with her body.

"Don't go."

"Why should I stay? What reason is there?" he asked sadly.

"…at least give me time to think about it."

His eyes widened slightly in disbelief. "Do you honestly mean that…"

"Well…I've never been proposed to before, let alone by someone who wants to whisk me off to fairyland. That _is_ a lot to think over." She suddenly stopped and laughed embarrassedly. "Or maybe I'm just making an ass of myself, you never said you actually wanted to. Sorry, I'm so worked up here that I'm jumping to illogical conclusions. If you-"

He cut her off with a passionate kiss, practically pinning her to the door. She was so surprised that she responded for a moment but presently managed to shove him off. He looked every bit as shocked as she did and was just as out of breath. There was gold in the air again. She laughed a half-smile.

"Are you producing extra glitter these days or are you just happy to see me?"

Jareth looked about him. "Oh, come on, it isn't supposed to happen that quick! I haven't been that young in centuries!"

Sarah blushed, suddenly finding herself eying the floor. "You mean that's…"

"My energy. One form of it, anyway," he said quietly. She suddenly remembered the golden light that she had seen encasing them when they were meditating. It was the same thing, just manifested in the real world. He reached out and lifted her chin up to meet his eyes. His were uncertain and full of questioning. "I wasn't jesting when I said I think there's something wrong with me. Perhaps it's best if I just leave you alone."

"What do you mean 'something wrong'?"

He seemed almost ashamedly embarrassed. What could it possibly be?!

"Could we just talk for a minute?"

"All right."

He walked resignedly back over to the couch and she followed.

"So," she said sitting, "what's up? Well, besides you, I mean."

He genuinely laughed at the jibe - he deserved that one.

"You always were just a little cruel, Sarah. You keep my feet on the ground," he smiled. And looked down at his feet, hands folded. "I'm afraid this is most serious. If I am unable to resolve this issue I may be too unstable to return at all. Ever."

Sarah gasped. "Why? What's going on? Are you ill?"

"I don't know. I've never felt this way before - that's just it."

"Well…how does it feel?"

He thought hard for a moment. "It's so strange…oh well, might as well just say it and get it over with. I feel like I can't live without you," he said simply. "But it goes farther than just immediate need. I've started counting the hours until you come home every day you work and it isn't because I'm bored. I want to be with you all the time. It's almost like I want to possess you but it goes far beyond that - I would know if it was that. I desire you more than my own life." He stopped for a moment as Sarah sat there in abject shock as what he said sunk in. "I am sorry if I am frightening you."

"N-no, no, that's totally okay."

"No, really-"

She put a finger over his lips momentarily before sinking back into the couch, letting out a huge breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Wow. I had no idea…"

"I'm pretty messed up, aren't I?"

"What's messed up with being in love? Well, except the obvious?" she laughed. "Is it because I'm human? I know that's given me plenty of pause, too."

"I'm afraid you don't appreciate the seriousness of the situation." He swallowed and looked at her squarely. "I cannot love."

Her eyes went wide. "What?"

"I cannot love. No sidhe can. Love as you know it is strictly a human emotion. I am incapable of experiencing it. I am truly sorry," he added quietly. Sarah was shell-shocked.

_But…__but__… _"But that's impossible! What you just described _is_ love!"

It was his turn to look surprised. "It is?!"

"Down to the last letter."

Jareth's mind was frantically racing with the possible implications. Was he accidentally getting any of Sarah along with the power that he was getting back? Was his power being humanized just from her having it? Was he connected to her himself just by their sharing it? And yet a small hunch in the back of his mind was starting to quietly say something that he had only suspected in days-gone-by. He steeled his nerves.

"Could you show me?"

"Show you what?"

"What human love feels like?"

Sarah balked. "How?"

"Just think of someone you love and hold still."

"And you're going to do what?"

"Just feel what you're feeling. Nothing more."

She resignedly nodded. "Well, here goes." _Somebody I love, let's see... _And to her surprise the first person that popped into her head was him! Maybe it wasn't all totally romantic love but it was love all the same. She had been trying to repress it for so long that she almost couldn't believe it was still there but nevertheless, there it was, bright as day. She loved his little quirks - his juvenile sense of humor, the chivalrous difference he always showed toward her, his absurd sense of personal flair, the way that he knew her entirely and never passed judgment once. But it was more than that. She genuinely cared about him, she wanted him to be happy, even to the point of giving up things herself. And she was undeniably attracted to him. She concentrated on her memories of him and closed her eyes. "Ready when you are."

He braced himself and reached out with his right hand, placing it over her heart - and almost instantly pulled it away as if he had been burned! She opened her eyes. Tears were streaming down his cheeks from shocked-wide eyes. It was the most intense feeling he had ever experienced in his entire life…and she had had it thinking of him! And that wasn't even as strong as it could get? How could humans endure such emotions?! No wonder a handful of them went crazy or committed suicide!

"You…you _love_…"

"I've been so scared to," she whispered.

He reached out and stroked her cheek in wonder and amazement, then took her hands and fervently kissed her palms, openly crying. He leaned in and gently kissed her lips over and over until she surrendered to the rhythm and opened her mouth, her neck going limp. Within moments they were passionately making out on the couch. Never in Sarah's life had physical intimacy like this felt so much like love; he was so conscious of everything he was doing to her, there was no other way to explain how perfect this rapture was. But it was getting out of hand again and he finally pulled away, panting.

"Oh, damn," he groaned, getting off of her so she could sit up. He didn't have to say anything else - gold hung thick in the air. He collapsed into the back of the couch while Sarah was catching her own breath. What in the world were they supposed to do?! This was far worse than any Romeo and Juliet: if she accepted him, she would have to leave Earth. If she didn't….

Sarah looked over at him. He had run a hand through his hair - a reaction she now recognized as a stress habit - and the look on his face was just about as bleak as her own. He met her gaze with an uncertain one and went to take one of her hands again but she withdrew it.

"I don't think so; we know where that goes," she teased him.

His eyes suddenly lit up as if he had just had an idea and his natural bravado resurfaced. "Would you feel up to something only slightly risky?"

Sarah looked a little unsure but she was definitely willing to listen at this point.

"Like what?"

A familiar slow, devious smile followed as the answer and he scooped her up in his arms and stood up, instantly dousing the lights, walking with her down the hall.

"What is it with you and carrying me?" she laughed.

"It saves energy for more…pleasurable pursuits. And besides," he purred in her ear, making her head spin, "I like to feel you near me." They entered her bedroom and he put her down on the bed, crawling on top of her.

"Whoa, I thought you said-"

"We aren't," he said matter-of-factly as he straddled her. Sitting up now, he produced another crystal, shimmering red. There seemed to be a sort of haze inside of it but as it slightly cleared momentarily he held it a bit closer to her face so she could see. There were two human forms inside, mingling, writhing in ecstasy amid haze that looked like steam and she could've sworn that she faintly heard the woman cry out. With a groan, Sarah bit her lower lip, closing her eyes: it was them! Jareth pulled it back to him again, drawing her gaze, and the glow illuminated his face. "It's just a dream, nothing more. And nothing less." His eyes smoldered with intention. "Do you want it?" All Sarah could do was frantically nod, completely suffused with need. "Then kiss me." He leaned in, deliberately and painfully slow and Sarah caught his face in her hands, dragging him down, crushing him to her, desperately kissing him for all she was worth. She was so preoccupied that she failed to notice that his right hand, which still held the crystal, was slowly journeying up to her head; as soon as he touched her temple with it, it vanished and she was out cold. He leapt off of her and sprinted to the far corner of the room, settling in for the show.

Jareth pulled out of the kiss and smiled against her lips before playfully kissing the tip of her nose, sitting back up again. Sarah took in the change of surroundings: they were in an opulent room with black silk draped along the walls, in the midst of an enormous crimson bed. Something felt different besides the obvious change in location, like she was forgetting something, but what she couldn't really pin down. Whatever it was had to be trifling in the face of this! Jareth seemed to be taking in the sight of her as she took in everything else.

"Much better," he said. "Now then, where were we?" he teased sultrily, his hands gliding up her abdomen, heavily over her chest to the collar of her work blouse, awakening her nerve endings. "Ah yes," he exhaled, making every last joint in her body go deliciously weak. In one swift move he ripped her blouse completely open, sending the buttons flying.

Sarah had begun to react. The beauty of this spell was that her body would physically respond in the real world to everything that happened in the dream. It was as realistic as he could've possibly crafted it, replete with his own intentions, his own dreams and desires. There was no reason that he could not pleasure her even if he was denied it himself. This would be almost as good as being there. She suddenly arched off the bed with a gasp. Yes, everything was going beautifully. But wait… what the hell was that?! Gold sparkles were beginning to emanate from her body - toward him! _SHIT!_ If they reached him, it would be as if they were bonding in the flesh! He had to get out of here now - without using his magic!

Panicked, he glanced about for a route of escape - the golden barrier had already crossed the room, blocking any retreat back into the rest of the apartment. His only chance was to make a death leap out of her small bedroom window. Faster than a blink his leather gloves were on again and he hurriedly shoved the window open and popped out the screen, throwing it on the floor. Watching his head, he leapt up onto the teensy ledge, making sure no one was on the street below to see. The shimmering power was three feet away, two feet now. Kicking the window closed with his boot he jumped_,_ spread-eagle, morphing into his owl form, praying he would make it before impact. Mere inches from the ground he zoomed up out of the fall on his new wings and gave a piercing cry of triumph, pumping higher, above the trees and away from the building. He thought he would never truly enjoy this form again after having being trapped in it for so long but the cool night wind gliding past his feathers felt nothing short of glorious and it helped to clear his head. Free as a bird!

He circled and saw that Sarah's room slightly glowed, but from even a short distance away the light could've been caused by any number of human-made luminary devices. He reflected in retrospect that he should've anticipated such an outcome and gotten out right away - the power she retained reacted exactly as if it had been _he_ who had been aroused. With him out of range, it wouldn't hurt her.

He soared up above the buildings, trying to ascertain which direction he should take on this magnificent evening. The city was already alive with light. Too much light, actually. Cleaner air and brighter stars beckoned to the west and west he went, chasing the waxing moon. It was strange to think that that distant lump of space rock affected both worlds so much. It was stranger to think that humans had actually managed to physically get there! On and on he flew, not really with any destination in mind until the mesas came into view. He descended and headed for South Table Mountain, scanning the surface of the top for suitable perches. Odd, there was light coming from the old horse-racing stadium, or rather, what was left of it. He carefully landed in a nearby elm tree - dead from the recent drought.

There were two men down there in mechanic suits doing what appeared to be a rundown check on a sort of largish circular-flat device, it was about the size of a small car, oh what were those called? Sports models - that was it - the ones built low to the ground for maximum physical ability. Was this some sort of vehicle? They walked backward about sixty or seventy feet, waving glowing sticks. And the device slowly floated up off of the ground! It was a thing of beauty and power, with a black top and a polished silver bottom with a ring of lights around the underside that illuminated the ground below it in harsh, frosty blue. The magnetic field it was generating was incredible - it was literally bouncing off of Earth's gravity! It was completely silent as it did a quick jog around the area, glinting in the moonlight, then came back down and turned off as the men waved their sticks again. A door in the top that had been nearly invisible now opened and another man stepped out of the machine and the others walked over.

"How was it this time?" one of the techs asked the pilot.

"I don't care how difficult it would be to add a vent but I need air in there! I can't imagine the entire army is going to be wanting to carry around huge oxygen tanks to utilize these things!"

"But was the cockpit more comfortable on the whole?"

"Provided you don't have to breathe, I could sleep in there. Plenty of leg room now and my arms aren't cramped anymore; I can get to the controls pretty easily. Even with air aside, though, it's still awfully claustrophobic in there. Especially the head space."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, here, let me show you," and the man escorted his two companions over to see the inside of the vessel. They had put down their glowing sticks on a table, revealing a large paper scroll. Could it possibly be the blueprints? Jareth had a sudden moment of brilliance and knew what he had to do. Soaring down from his perch, he landed on the table and, gripping the roll tightly in his talons, took off with it. At the sound of mightily flapping wings the men turned around just in time to see a large barn owl making off with top secret blueprints and equation sheets! They gave chase, angrily shouting after him but he paid them no heed, pumping higher and higher into the black night sky. He turned back just in time to see the flying machine on his tail! It was trying to knock the paper tube out of his grasp! He caught a breeze and quickly floated above it, out of range of the window and invisible from the ground, and simply vanished. After a few minutes, the pilot realized that he had lost the owl somehow and returned to the ground. It was the strangest thing any of them had ever seen. Was it even real? How could anything just disappear like that?! Once the vehicle was safely landed once again, they dashed back over to the table to get the rest of their equipment and received an even bigger shock - the papers were sitting there undisturbed! There were strange stories about these mesas being haunted but being men of science none of them had ever really given them much thought. They were thinking about them now and, at any rate, decided that it was wisest to call it a night, putting a tarp over the experimental aircraft and towing it back to the hangar.

Jareth teleported back downtown Denver with his treasure, reappearing in a deserted alley. Unrolling the inner scroll, it revealed a dizzying series of mathematical/physical equations and rough sketches. In spite of his considerable skill at arithmetic, it was total gibberish to him. Sarah would be able to understand it, though, he was sure of it! Perhaps this could furnish the missing pieces for her own device. Conjuring a long coat, he quickly stashed it in the lining and took a leisurely, time-wasting route home; he had to wait out Sarah's spell. Several hours later, he wearily trudged up the stairs to her apartment, walked right through the closed front door, deposited the scroll on the coffee table, and passed out on the couch, exhausted.

(The songs are "The Blacksmiths" and "To The One" from Mediaeval Baebes _Illumination_. These ladies rock!)


	20. So Close

Chapter 20 - Close

Sarah slowly awoke early the next day with this lingering feeling of utter deliciousness. It had been quite the night, to put it mildly. She languorously turned over only to find that she had been sleeping on top of the blankets and she was still completely clothed from the day before. She quickly looked down to check - even the blouse was still intact.

_It was all a __dream__. Incredible… _She got up in search of Jareth; something that spectacular couldn't just go unanswered! He was on the couch, wearing yesterday's suit as well and still asleep, looking a bit disheveled himself. She smiled, walking over to him, and stroked his hair. Had he been there, too? Was that why it had been so real? It would certainly explain his apparent exhaustion, not to mention his haste to go to sleep. She decided against waking him and turned to go - it was only then that she noticed the odd long roll of papers on the coffee table. Curiously picking it up, she unrolled the inner scroll and suddenly needed to sit down on the floor. In dumb shock, she scoured page after page after page of classified information. It was impossible. Where had they come from?! She could only think of one possible explanation as the implications and legal repercussions began to mount in her frantic brain. She got up and knelt beside the couch. "Jareth," she shook his arm. He slowly opened his eyes and lazily smiled up at her, reaching out to stroke her face.

"Good morning, love."

"Where the hell did you find these?!" she held up one of the blueprints.

"Does it matter?" he answered calmly. "Consider them an early birthday present."

"It matters a great deal; I could go to jail just for owning them! Now where did they come from?"

He groggily sat up and rubbed one eye with the inside of his palm.

"The South Mesa. It looked like some of your colleagues were out there running tests on some kind of flying machine I've never seen before."

"South Mesa…why were you even out there? Whatever possessed you to take them?! If anyone ever traces this back to me-"

He leaned in and silenced her panicked questions with a deep kiss, making her melt into him before he pulled away.

"After all this time you still have so little faith in me? My distance was to protect you last night. I was an owl and they didn't see where I went - I got into a blind spot and disappeared. These are only a copy. Their machine seemed to utilize energy in a way that was completely foreign to me and I thought that perhaps their notes would help you with your own device. I cannot sit idly by and let unthinking people steal away your dreams." He got down on the floor and they spread them out together. He had been right about it being unique - Sarah had never seen such a set of blueprints in her life!

"And to think that all this time it's been us," she finally said with a rueful smirk.

"Beg your pardon?"

"There have been stories circulating for decades about alien spacecraft being cited flying over the mesas out there. It's this project that everybody's been seeing. The military or the Secret Service must be funding this the way it's been hushed up." The truly incredible thing was getting to see the equations that were used to come up with the antigravity projectors but there were plenty of 'mundane' things as well such as energy use and storage. It looked like the entire top was one of the new kinds of solar cells. Something like this could potentially run indefinitely without ever having to come down to refuel if it was used as a drone. Indefinite power…she suddenly started looking over the third page again then ran to get her briefcase. In a matter of minutes the entire floor was strewn with paper. Jareth watched with pleased interest from the recliner as Sarah made feverish notes, rifling through papers, holding some together, comparing others. She kept at it for a couple of hours and he brought her breakfast and tea so she wouldn't have to be interrupted; progress was obviously being made. Around 9:00 she suddenly lay down on the pile of paper with a huge grin on her face, triumphantly holding up a single page. He plucked it out of her grasp and looked it over. On it was a complete engineering diagram for the car battery with notes. At long last, she had done it!

"Bravo, darling! I knew you could do it. All you needed was a little help."

Sarah had begun to get up but on a whim Jareth knelt and lay down beside her, making her laugh.

"I believe this calls for a celebration. How about by starting with finding colorful ways to destroy this excessive mass of tree pulp below us? Well, after this, of course," he leaned over her, propped up on his elbows, and proceeded to start kissing her, slowly, languorously, over and over, his fine silky mane partially blocking out the light so it felt even more private. Sarah was so completely absorbed in what he was doing to her that she completely failed to notice what he was actually doing. After a couple of minutes, he pulled back with a satisfied smirk that initially puzzled her - until she followed his gaze and looked down at herself. And jumped! She was wearing the ivory velvet dress he had purchased for her and she was cleaned and primped from head to foot! She stared up at him, amazed. "Couldn't do that before, love, but I certainly can now. You trust me enough to undress you, so…" he lazily smiled, running a finger across the top hem. It was almost criminal how he could just make her brain stop. She grabbed his hand playfully.

"I don't mean to complain but could it be a little more practical? With this project complete, the rest of my day is free and we're definitely going somewhere."

Jareth didn't even bat an eye - and in the next moment she was in jeans and one of her more casual blouse tops. The green matched her eyes. He was dressed to go, too.

"That's better, Glitter-Boy," she lightly teased him, looking at the floor where they were - it was just covered with the stuff, albeit it was dissolving. She pulled him down against and rolled him over, taking him a bit by surprise, before resuming the necessarily brief makeout session.

* * *

The confiscated copy documents as well as half a ream of processing notes Sarah no longer needed were made into confetti via her paper shredder and Jareth dumped the basket over her head while she wasn't looking, citing a similar ritual at the end of a football game. This quickly escalated into an all-out confetti war in her apartment which ended in a standoff between confetti down his pants and in her microwave. Jareth sulkily agreed to clean up the mess and soon they were on the road.

As they were zooming west on I-70 with an Enya CD in the deck, Jareth found himself thinking for the umpteenth time that, for Earth, this was a fairly pretty view. The Rocky Mountains were a lot more visible out here than they were the closer one got to them, stretching away as far as the eye could see both north and south. The weather was turning cooler and a bit windy but the sun was shining warm and there wasn't a cloud in the sky by the time they turned off south, following those grand peaks. The idea that vehicular travel could take a while had been a bit annoying at first once the initial novelty had worn off but, for the most part, Jareth had adapted to this quirk of human existence pretty quickly. However, at the moment, he was fighting down the immature impulse to ask, 'are we there yet?'

Suddenly, as if in answer to his question, an immense striated ruddy rock formation that jutted sideways out of the earth loomed up ahead on the right-hand side of the road. It looked almost alien to the landscape.

"Is that it?" he pointed out the window. Sarah kept her eyes on the road but answered him, smiling.

"Yep. That's Red Rocks park and amphitheater. Since you seem to enjoy wandering around strange geological formations, I thought this might appeal to you. There are a few good hiking trails once we get up in the complex." Sarah turned off the highway and onto a tiny two-lane road that meandered past Seven Ladders Rock.

The formations were breath-taking up-close; huge slabs of sedimentary rock thrust up stories high, all of the oddly similar layers starkly visible. Sparse trees and short grasses grew in the semi-arid red soil, even in a few crags in the sheer rock-face itself The place felt very ancient, much older than the surrounding landscape. It would be a joy to explore this place freely but Jareth had a sinking feeling he knew what all that red rock was colored with.

As Sarah pulled into the parking lot at the Trading Post and unbuckled to get out, she suddenly noticed that her companion was eying the red gravel just outside with a considerable level of trepidation. "Jareth, what's the matter?"

He turned to face her. "Most of the ruddy coloring in this formation and all the rocks and earth in this area is from ferrous iron, isn't it." It was a statement, not a question. Sarah's eyes went wide and she gasped in realization.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I didn't think about it at all since this place is mostly natural. You can't be here at all, can you? We should go."

"Not so hasty, darling," he said, eyebrows furrowed at the visitor's center, which was also made of the same rock. He seemed to be thinking it out and presently came to a decision and nodded. "I should be able to handle some trekking out here but I won't be able to go as far; we'll have to take only a short route. And some personal protection is definitely in order." He looked down at this clothes and in the next moment there was a spray of glitter in the car: his black leather gloves had reappeared, his dark blue cotton shirt - buttoned up to the neck - was tucked tightly into his black jeans, and the jeans were _squeezed_ into his knee-high black boots. The two-inch heels were now ridiculously visible and the contrast with his more earthly attire made them look for all the world like women's go-go boots. He looked satisfied. "There. Completely impermeable almost up to the face, and I can keep the air still in my immediate vicinity. I'll clean us both for dust before we re-enter the car."

Sarah was just smiling. "There is no way you are going out in public in those boots; they just look too silly with what you're wearing."

He looked at her levelly. "Sarah, it took me 1,200 years to wear in these boots; I'm not about to alter them."

"Well, it's either that or I'll have to buy you a pair of overpriced sneakers in the gift shop and I can guarantee you're not going to be comfortable in those even if they fit correctly. You're too spoiled."

Jareth looked down at his beloved boots with regret. "I suppose I could just bespell the outsides a bit…" He closed his eyes, grimacing, and pointed. _When in Rome…_ In a flash they changed into black cowboy boots. With silver stitching. Of course. The heels were as high as ever. Upon seeing what he'd done, Sarah just bust up laughing - and stopped short at the feeling of something suddenly covering her head. She quickly felt it with her hand and took the thing off to look at it: he had made her a white cowboy hat with clear rhinestones. She looked back at him again - he had made himself a black one and had a neck bandana to match. Sarah just covered her eyes with one hand, shaking her head, still smiling.

"You just don't get it, do you?"

He took her hat and put it back on her, carefully adjusting the chin strap, moving her hand out of the way. "There's just no pleasing you, dear," he sighed with a little smile of his own.

"I mean, seriously, you look like a bandit from a western melodrama! All you're missing is a fake mustache!"

Jareth suddenly sneered a pretty convincing 'bad guy' smile and in one swift move pulled Sarah across the front of the sedan to his lap, her legs barely missing the stick-shift, securing her waist with one arm while the other hand trailed up to stroke her neck, making her breath quicken. "It would appear I have the heroine in my dastardly clutches. But I don't think she's going to cry out…" he ducked in and started slowly dragging hot kisses from the hollow of her throat to the nape of her neck, "…for help."

Sarah moaned softly, giving into his embrace, collapsing against him while his smooth gloved hands roamed her torso. At a sharp little thrill of pleasure she suddenly snapped to and remembered they were in a parking lot! She quickly straightened, shoving his hands off.

"Jareth, we're in public!" she shout-whispered, turning pink. "And the cabin of the car is practically glowing!" She lunged across to the driver's side door controls and closed all the windows, taking the key out of the ignition. Fortunately for them, it seemed that the only person who had even noticed was a three-year-old girl, and her mother wasn't paying any attention to what she was blabbering about as she pointed behind her.

Once the sparkles had subsided, they exited the vehicle and headed up the stairs to the Trading Post. They were instantly glommed onto as tourists by the staff and Jareth effortlessly lied his way through their polite inquisition, making up most of his information on the spot, while Sarah hurriedly dug through pamphlets for a decent trail map and a geologic history guide to the place. In a few minutes they were out of the building and on Ship Rock Road, heading to the amphitheater.

Jareth was right that the Red Rocks formation felt old: it was a part of the only remaining features of the Ancestral Rocky Mountains, which had been raised out of a primordial ocean and eroded to nothing. All that was left were parts of the alluvial fan - the deposits washed down the mountainside, hence why the striations were diagonal. Even this much would not be visible had it not been dragged to the surface by the rising of the current mountain range; most of this formation was still buried under thousands of feet of solid rock.

But mostly, it was a place of rugged, natural beauty. They carefully followed the ramp over Ship Rock and meandered their way down into the amphitheatre. Jareth was used to thinking of amphitheatres as an 'old world' phenomena, but this one just fit perfectly into the down-slope of the rock. A handful of other people were there, exercising by running up and down the stairs and the seating area, which was mostly just bigger stairs. The place had a modern stage for performers that was carefully barricaded from the public.

"Sarah, what do people normally perform out here?" he asked as they started to climb the stairs on the far side by Creation Rock.

"Mostly rock music - yeah, I know, but it isn't meant as a pun. A lot of famous bands have played this venue over the years. They used to have theater and opera way back-in-the-day but I don't think that's done much anymore. There's more information once we get to the top. How are you holding out?"

"Mostly alright, I think, but after this we'll have to go back."

Sarah nodded, slowing her pace a bit for him so he wouldn't push himself too hard. Once they got to the top of the amphitheatre, there was a fantastic view, one that Sarah never tired of: the suburbs of Denver with plenty of trees in the neighborhoods, swaths of untouched wild, Sloan's Lake to the south, Green Mountain to the north. The sense of wide-open space from up here was incredible, nothing like where she had grown up. They made a quick stop in the Visitor's Center and got a bite to eat at the grill but Jareth was obviously flagging a little bit by now and rather than force him to trudge all that way back in a somewhat weakened state, Sarah forced him to wait for her up there and drove to the upper parking lot to retrieve him. He revived in minutes in the confines of the car with the vents closed, even though he had to zap it clean of iron-contaminated dust.

The rest of the day was spent in sight-seeing around Denver: the Capital area and the colonnade, the botanical gardens, the natural history museum. It was like taking a little kid on a field trip; Jareth just seemed to absorb everything, learning everything, want to do everything. They were just burning through the remainder of his 'cash'. It was a gratifying day but exhausting to Sarah. And the more things and places they saw the more she began to have misgivings about giving him hope. This world was her home and she loved it. The thought of voluntarily leaving… she wasn't honestly sure she could really go through with it and she was starting to feel very low. Jareth in comparison was in unusually high spirits, teasing her, flirting with her, trying to make out in any place that was even remotely private and a few that were rather public, brazenly ignoring the stares they got from random passers-by who happened to notice the sudden inexplicable glitter storm in their immediate vicinity. How could she possibly tell him? But she had to - soon. He seemed blithely oblivious to her internal consternation as he did his best to seduce her back into her apartment, kissing her all the way through unlocking the door, getting inside, closing it behind them, and dropping the glamour he was wearing. Sarah finally came up for air.

"Jareth," she panted, catching her breath, "we need to talk."

He smiled, smoothing a few strands of hair away from her face with his thumb. "I quite agree. We need to start making plans."

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment and took a steadying breath. This was not going to be easy. Jareth belatedly noticed that her half-smile was a little sad as she took him by the hand and led him over to the couch, sitting with him. She was having a hard time even looking at him and in a flash Jareth suddenly understood as if a bucket of ice water had just been poured over him. His lips quirked into a little sardonic smile.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were a horrible tease."

Sarah finally made eye contact out of surprise. "What?"

"You still intend to abandon me. After everything, everything we've gone through together you're still going to go through with it," he shook his head in disbelief.

"…you stopped reading me ages ago!"

"I don't have to!" he snapped bitterly. "I can feel your doubt and I see the resolve and cold, hard logic in your eyes. Well, go on then! Tell me it's all been a joke, that I have no hope, that there's no reason at all for me to have to sit here and placidly take this! But be warned, Sarah," he crooned, suddenly pulling her close and burying his face in her hair, inhaling deeply against the nape of her neck, causing fabulous tingles all the way to her extremities, "I may not play as you wish in return." He lightly nipped the skin, just sharp enough to shock her alert again. She pulled out of his embrace.

"Would you just calm down long enough to let me speak?!"

"What point is there?" he laughed humorlessly. "I already know what you're going to say."

"No, you don't!"

He just looked at her flatly, folding his arms. "Prove me wrong."

Sarah let out an exasperated sigh. "J, it's not so simple as all that. In fact, it's just terrible because I do care about you."

"How sweet," he oozed icily. Sarah nearly slapped his face but caught herself just in time.

"Jareth," she said his name through clenched teeth, "you once begged me to hear you out when I would have rather just walked away and now you're going to listen to me! I only said I would think about it. And that's what I've been doing. I've been thinking about this all day long, and at first I thought I could do it, but the closer I get to this for real the scarier it gets and I just don't know if I can really go through with this. I mean, I want to be with you, but you're asking me to lose everything - my family, my friends, my job, my world! Haven't you thought at all about how hard that would be for me to do for any reason?"

Jareth slowly exhaled, some of the tension going out of his frame, taking her hands in his and looking seriously into her eyes. "If we're ever going to be able to be together, one of us must lose, Sarah. I am sorry, but the world will not be fair in this and, in the long-run, I sincerely believe it would be easier for you - I would not ask it otherwise."

Sarah balked at the remark. He merely put up a hand to stop her temporarily.

"My turn, love. I understand you want to keep what you know, but think about this realistically. Yes, I could continue to pretend to be human and even feign premature aging, and at the 'end' of our lives we could stage our deaths and go live in my world. I know that's what you desire, my darling, and it would be truly idyllic, except for two things. Firstly, you forget: when we first make love, you will cease to be completely human. You will take on certain sidhe attributes and they will come so naturally that you won't notice the difference at all in a very short period of time. But I assure you that other humans will, especially those who have known you before. Glamour can only hide so much. They'll know - instinctively - that you're not one of them. Second, regardless of any of my emotions, I must consider my office and the empty throne which I should be occupying. We've discussed this thoroughly, why it's important. I know the unknown can be daunting but if you actually care about me as you claim you will understand that this is necessary."

"And if you actually loved me, you would be concerned about my feelings, my happiness!"

"Sarah," he said gently, "let me share something with you that may help. I am willing to admit that I may not be as mature as you are at certain times," he wryly smiled, "but I have been around the block many more times than you have, and I believe I possess a bit more perspective of the situation. I have watched hundreds upon hundreds of years of human civilization go by, and while human mortality was initially off-putting to me, I slowly began to realize that there was a beauty and a function to the seeming fleetingness of mankind. The sidhe world is almost static. We are like statues; not doing much during our lives but nevertheless lasting for millennia. In comparison, mankind is like a great big machine with many interconnected parts, all moving at breakneck speed. You wear out much faster like this but the build of the mechanism is such that the parts are interchangeable; if one of you dies, another immediately fills the gap. Your world will continue to run whether you are here or not; time devours all men but it also heals the wounds. It is already the nature of your world, your species - why not just take advantage of the fact?"

Sarah simply could not believe what she was hearing and felt herself turn ice-cold with fury. She got up and angrily paced a short distance away, trying to get her emotions back under control. Jareth watched her carefully with concern.

"You must see that it is so" he said calmly. "We simply have no choice."

"Jareth, when are you going to get it?!" she screamed, spinning to face him. "Are you ever going to get it? Or is your head really that far out in space?! I'm not leaving, okay? I'm not going with you. You're such a high-and-mighty asshole to think for even one second that your life is more important than mine! And the thing that kills me is that you really believe it. To you, my mortal life here is expendable! What about my mission here, huh? You know, my life's work? You really think I'm going to drop that and passively let myself be whisked away just because you acted domineering? It makes me sick! And you're so desperate for things to 'get back to normal' that you're willing to permanently tear me away from people that I love, from my family, or did you forget that's how we met?" she spat venomously. His look had turned black as death - darkness had even begun to emanate from his normally invisible aura - but Sarah was too enraged at him to even notice or care. Her lips twisted into a cruel little smile.

"I wish you were out of this apartment building. Right now." He vanished instantaneously. "And you can't come back in," she added quietly, her voice almost starting to break as her anger began to give way to sorrow and relief. The travesty was over. She should've known better, known that it would've never worked. She shouldn't have gotten so involved. It wasn't even her problem; she had bested him fair and square, she owed him nothing. It would have been better if she had just wished him away in some dark corner of that café and let him fend for himself at home. She had let herself get mixed up in this mess. And lord knows what he had done to her physically. _And mentally, and emotionally, _her brain added as all the conflicting feelings began to surface. She had almost loved him, dammit! _He just __had__ to come here and ruin my life all over again_, she thought blearily, turning off all the lights and making her way to the bedroom, suddenly exhausted. Screw her toilette for just one night; she needed rest badly. Things would look better in the morning. And if they didn't she knew someone who was going to pay.

* * *

Jareth found himself standing outside the front door of Sarah's apartment complex as soon as she said the words, the scathing retort he was about to unleash dying in his throat. He angrily cranked the door handle but it merely spun in his grasp and attempted to pass through it ephemerally to no avail. He couldn't even see inside her rooms with a scrying crystal, the inside only showing the grey mist of the inbetween. He smashed it against the door in a fit of temper and took two quick paces away before his emotions caught up with him and he suddenly had to sit down right where he was to keep from fainting from the sheer shock of what had just happened. Sarah had just kicked him out. If it wasn't so direly serious he would've laughed. He felt a headache coming on.

_Well, you just blew __everything__, genius, now what?_ his brain seemed to be saying with all that dull throbbing. He sighed and simply sat there for a moment to collect himself before willing away the pain, allowing himself to feel it briefly. He had the vague feeling that he deserved it and whatever else the universe could dish out at this point; he was officially a failure. He had failed his kingdom, he had failed Sarah, and, ultimately, he had failed himself. Belatedly he realized that he was still attired in Underground clothing and quickly changed so he wouldn't be conspicuous. He wasn't ready to resign himself to his owl form just yet…

_No_. He wasn't a failure unless he gave up. As long as he drew breath he would try as hard at he could to get back, he thought, hauling himself to his feet. Even if all he was going back to was a dungeon. He owed his family that much. _Her __family__! How could I have been so blind, so __stupid_?! he thought to himself as he paced around the building to the side where the windows to Sarah's corner apartment were visible. All the lights were off. He thought of getting her attention by throwing gravel at her bedroom window but thought better of it - with no further plan he would no doubt wind up strung up by his toes at least. No, he needed to think this out. He paced out into the urban night.


	21. Decisions, Decisions

Chapter 21: Decisions, Decisions

Jareth left the apartment building feeling numb, not knowing where he was headed. He barely noticed where his feet took him as he walked the deserted streets of Denver, lit by the strange, harsh yellowed glow of the street lamps, leaching the world of color until it was as grey as his thoughts. It was a little after midnight - only the bars and night clubs were still open - when he found himself standing outside the Gem, where he had first encountered her again. Ah, how simple the plan had been - charm his way back into her life and take what was rightfully his without so much as a by-your-leave. No, life was far more complicated than that. Sarah had grown up. She was no longer that little girl who played princess and daydreamed all day, waiting for Prince Charming to come and save her. She had saved herself - she'd left home for college on grants and scholarships, worked hard, gotten good grades and a good degree and a good job. Aside of some emotional and psychological baggage she had moved on. It was he who was standing still.

_Foolish_, he thought. _She's always been able to look after herself. If she is to be truly happy she must be free to make her own decisions. And if she decides that she doesn't __want__ me… _He hated entertaining the idea but he had to face it - they hadn't exactly been seeing eye-to-eye lately, to put it mildly. He _had_ to make things right between them, he at least owed her that much. Jareth noticed sudden commotion coming from a nearby alley and he stealthily walked over to investigate.

There was a group of five boys - four of them dressed completely the same - and one that was cornered to the wall. Their slang and cursing were so heavy and frequent that Jareth could barely make out what they were saying but the gist of the situation was very clear: this was the beginning of a turf fight between rival gang members; someone was obviously in the wrong part of town. Jareth had seen plenty of street violence in his day but it genuinely surprised him how young they all were - the eldest couldn't have been older than fifteen. The cornered loner was only _ten_ and it was painfully clear that in spite of his bravado he was in for the beating of his life, that he had walked right into this completely unawares. Jareth knew the act the boy was trying to pull off far too well.

_Don't get involved…*sigh* damn, here we go __again__. _The eldest had just drawn a Spyderco razor and Damien braced himself for the first slash, closing his eyes against it, there was no way he could reach his back pocket in time…but the cut never came. When he opened his eyes he saw all four of the other gang members lined up against the side wall facing forward with their hands up. All of them had an unspeakable look of silent terror as a strange man with long blonde hair, nice clothes and tight black leather gloves casually rifled through their pockets, throwing out weapons, paraphernalia, and even some drugs. It was like they were all frozen to the spot like some alien abduction movie! Scared to death but amazed, Damien watched as the man stepped away from the last thug and suddenly clenched his right hand into a into a fist: all of the objects on the pavement - guns, knives, needles, pills, cigarettes, even spray paint cans - immediately turned to dust. The stranger looked at all four of them; there was danger in his eyes.

"**Get out of here**," he growled. None of them thought twice - they all ran for their lives. He then turned to Damien, who automatically started backing away with his hands up as if to fend off this bizarre apparition.

"Whoa, man, I wasn't doin' _nothin'_!"

"Of course you weren't," Jareth replied with brittle faux sympathy, giving a civil little smile, walking towards the boy, "but it's awfully late for a growing boy to be up and about. There are all kinds of people that one doesn't want to run into at this time of night." With a flick of Jareth's wrist Damien's arms shot up like the others had been only moments before and he found that he couldn't move at all! Jareth strode right up to the shocked boy, reached around him and pulled a long knife out of Damien's deep back pocket, eying the weapon, tisking before it became powder in his hand.

"Hey! Do you have any fricken' clue how hard it was for me to get that thing?!"

"I can imagine," Jareth replied dryly. Suddenly Damien regained the control of his limbs and did a full body shiver, lowering his arms. "You should be thanking me. You know, they would've killed you without even a trace of remorse."

"Why do you even care?! Who are you?!"

"One who does not wish to see a ten-year-old needlessly murdered in cold blood."

"You think I'm only ten? I'm fifteen, I'm just short!"

"It is pointless trying to lie to me, Damien," Jareth continued calmly. "Find yourself some different friends - I won't be here to save you again. Now run home."

Damien was floored. His anger and even his fear were starting to melt away. He desperately had to know. "Who are you?"

Jareth smirked and suddenly his skin and hair seemed paler, brighter, almost _glowing_. Mischievous sparks flashed in his mismatched eyes. Large white feathers floated by out of nowhere. And then he was gone. Damien's eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he stared at the place where the stranger had been standing.

_He's an __angel__! _"I'm going to church every Sunday!" he called up at the sky as he ran away.

Jareth quietly laughed as he watched the boy go, stopping the glamour. He knew that he was no saint but he might've just saved a human soul. Now, if he remembered correctly, the street mall Sarah had taken him to a couple of days ago was about five blocks…in that direction. Jareth knew that it would all be closed for the night but it mattered not. He wasn't there to shop. He was there to _think_.

_What a mess_, he thought dejectedly, running a hand through his straightened hair. Not enough power to go home _and_ out of favor. He was so damn close! And he wasn't going to even make it after all that… Sarah found him petty, callous, and immature, a startling blow to the pride of someone who had lived so long. She was openly shunning him now. He had to let her know that he finally understood. Let her know how he felt, just how much she meant to him. _Not that it __matters_, he thought coldly.

There were a few homeless out on the sidewalk. A couple over here were sleeping beneath dingy blankets, propped up against their few worldly belongings. One old woman in a threadbare shawl was wide-eyed, staring straight ahead and mumbling to herself, clutching an old teddy bear wearing a little Halloween devil costume. She almost reminded him of one of his junkyard goblins in a weird sort of way. She looked up at him fiercely as he passed by but he just smiled at her. There was music coming from further on down the street, a lone string player was plucking out a tune from the same kind of instrument that he had played for Sarah at the Gem…that was it! He still owed her a song; she had ached to hear his voice again. _Hear it she __shall__, _he thought as he briskly made his way down the next two blocks to the musician.

Miguel was a small man but strong from having to constantly walk everywhere and thin from never having quite enough to eat; the chili at some of the shelters was literally dangerous, bad meat and cooking practices were unfortunately commonplace. Sometimes it was preferable to just be hungry. A walking cane lay beside him on the cement - his right knee had gone out years ago and he never had enough money to see a real doctor and not just a nurse at the free clinic. Check that, see a real doctor _and_ drink. Whiskey was his physician of choice - at least it dulled the pain. The tramp was sitting Indian-style playing his guitar in the large median sidewalk between the bus lanes, a battered old fedora in front of him with some change thrown into it. Jareth casually approached him.

"A pretty tune, that. What do you call it?"

Miguel paused for a moment to eye the stranger before continuing.

"Thought everybody knew 'Stairway to Heaven.' What rock have you been living under?"

Jareth had to smile at the man's brazen contempt of the world. He seemed to have good reason.

"How much would you take for your instrument?"

"Not for sale," was his stamp reply. "This old guitar here…," he paused playing to look down at it fondly, "she keeps me company. More faithful than any of the friends I ever had. Doesn't drink my whiskey. Doesn't steal my stuff. Besides, if you haven't noticed, some of us have to actually work for our daily bread."

Jareth scanned the area to make sure that there was no one around to see what he was about to do. He crouched down on his heels and discreetly lay $500 in twenties in the man's hat, fanned out so he could see.

"Would that amount change your tune?" he asked quietly. The tramp looked down and stopped playing when he saw the money, shell-shocked, and quickly scanned Jareth up and down, from his platinum hair and perfect teeth to his expensive-looking leather boots.

_This freak's gotta be some kind of drug lord._ He narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure about that, mister?"

Jareth nodded. "It's an emergency."

Miguel hadn't seen money like that at his disposal since he'd worked that bar down on Federal years ago. And he suddenly smiled, laughing right in Jareth's honest face.

"Lady Fair hath scorned you," he declared a bit drunkenly, "or did she just get around to kicking your butt out of the mansion?"

Jareth paled, noticeably concerned. "Is it that obvious?"

Miguel chuckled, almost sobbing at the fair stranger's innocence. Fate certainly played favorites - as surely as he played poker. He patted him on the shoulder and Jareth had to fight the urge to dust off his sleeve - it had almost immediately begun to itch.

"Why the hell else would you be bothering me at 1:00 in the morning and offering a king's ransom no less for this beat up, weather-worn guitar?"

Jareth smirked, forced to concede. "You hold a valid point."

The tramp shook his head in amused disbelief. "Well I have to hand it to ya: in spite of your pansiness you still have the balls to actually try." Miguel carefully scooped the bills out of the hat and quickly stuffed them into the front pocket of his dirt-brown cargo pants. He pulled the guitar strap off from over his head and handed the instrument to Jareth, who put it on immediately, discreetly disinfecting it. "All I can say is you'd better take care of her; I've had her forever. Oh, and watch the fifth string; it always slips right when you need it."

Jareth stood back up, holding the guitar as if he were about to play it. "I shall keep her in tune and in good repair. Thank you…Miguel," he said, turning and walking away, starting to pluck out chords.

"Wait a second, how did you know my…"

All he got for a reply was Jareth's laughter echoing eerily down the corridor of connected buildings. Sometimes it was good to be the king.

* * *

Sarah woke suddenly to the sound of something hitting her bedroom window. She groggily grabbed the clock and checked the time - 3:23 - before shoving it away and rolling over. A second volley of gravel hit the pane of glass and Sarah suddenly realized what she was hearing. She put on a robe and carefully made her way to the window and cracked the blinds - Jareth was down pacing on the sidewalk with a guitar of all things. _Where in the world did he get that at this hour?! _She drew the blinds and opened the window and he automatically looked up expectantly.

"What on earth are you doing down there?!" she whisper-shouted. "You'll wake the neighbors!"

"But I haven't even started to play yet," he teased.

"Jareth."

"Will you let me come up, then?"

"…fine. You've got five minutes."

He bowed slightly in acknowledgement and disappeared, only to reappear almost instantaneously in her room. She whipped around when she heard him walking toward her.

"Where did you get that guitar?"

"From the salt of the earth," he declared grandly, "and their dirt," he levelly added, brushing his shoulder clean at last.

"And you got a guitar from a bum in the middle of the night why?"

"Because you expressed the desire to hear me sing and I still owe you a song. I write better if I have an instrument at hand."

Sarah sighed slouching , exhausted, closing her eyes. "Jareth, can't this wait until morning?"

"No." He knelt where he was on the floor, keeping his eyes locked with hers, both an act of submission and defiance, holding his ground. The pale, tinged lamplight came through the open window, illuminating half his face. Sarah resignedly sat on the edge of the bed; he clearly wasn't going anywhere until he'd had his song. He looked down at the neck of the guitar and delicately plucked out the first arpeggiated chords. He looked right into her shadowed face and began to sing.

Dear I know that things haven't been easy,  
And I realize that you've changed and grown,  
You're no longer a child with stories,  
But a woman with tales all her own.

You're smart and you're brave and you're beautiful,  
And I know that I can't keep you, dear,  
Locked up with your fears and your fancies,  
You were meant to fly away from here.

So, fly, my princess  
Go on, fly, you're free  
Taste the sky, my angel  
But please, fly back to me.

I know that I'm not always patient,  
And rarely, if ever, I'm good,  
I'll never live up to Prince Charming,  
Help me treat you the way that I should.

I will treasure each moment, each lifetime,  
Forever is all you must ask,  
But I'm so afraid I can't hold you,  
I'm scared that forever won't last.

So, fly, my princess  
Go on, fly, you're free  
Taste the sky, my angel  
But please, fly home to me.

Bring me back just a taste of your freedom,  
Can't you see all these chains that I'm in?  
I can't break them because you're bound to me,  
And I know that I never can win.

So just take all my stories and poems,  
I surrender them all as we part,  
Just remember as you're soaring from me,  
Please remember you're taking my heart!

Go on, fly, dear Sarah,  
You have always been free,  
Go on, soar, my angel  
But, please, think of me.

By the time he strummed cadence there were tears in her eyes. He slowly got up.

"May I take my rest in your living room?"

Her throat was dry; all she could do was nod.

"Thank you," he whispered. Her eyes followed him as he walked back over to the window and shut it, closing the blinds as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and walked out of the room without another word, quietly closing the door behind him.

Sarah fell back on the bed and cried her heart out. He loved her, he actually loved her enough to let her go and she had been so thoughtlessly cruel. She had all but ripped his heart out and here he was holding it out on a platter for her to do with as she wished. It was too much - how could she even live with herself if she didn't say anything now? She couldn't stand it another second: she tore out of her bedroom and ran into the living room, nearly tackling him to the floor she embraced him so hard. He hadn't realized that his musical arrow was going to penetrate her so deeply and profoundly and he immediately returned the hug, holding her protectively close, the fingers of his right hand closing in her thick, soft hair.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed into his neck. "I'm so -"

"Shh, I know," he murmured reassuringly in her ear, stroking her back, "it's alright. You had every right to be angry with me."

"No I-"

Jareth ducked in and cut her off with a passionate kiss. She instantly responded, melting into him as he broke away, smoothing her cheek with his thumb, resting his forehead against hers.

"You and I bicker even when we're making up," he teased with just a whisper of a smile. "It's either a bad habit for both of us or the fates have some strange ideas about the laws of attraction."

"Why not find out?" Sarah added brazenly without even thinking about it, heading back for his mouth. Jareth suddenly pulled away.

"We're both tired and emotional; I don't want to do _anything_ you are going to _regret_."

Sarah sighed. Darn logic.

"I'll be here tomorrow; we can talk _then_. Yes, I know you don't want to talk and, frankly my dear, neither do I," he grinned wickedly, "but we must before this gets too much farther out of hand. I shall see you at breakfast but know in advance that whatever your decision is I am willing to abide it….oh what the hell." He leaned in and took her by surprise again with another quick, luscious kiss only to pull away teasingly, leaving her body adrift, craving his taste, his touch. "I warned you I'm no Prince Charming," he lightly taunted, his voice thick and dark with sensual intent. "Goodnight, Sarah."

"Goodnight, you."

He smirked and crashed out on the air mattress, too exhausted to make the grandiose bed let alone change, as Sarah drifted off to her own room, dreams crowding her mind far before she ever fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning was rather sober. Both ate breakfast in silence, neither wanting to have to make the first move. After it was finished, they adjourned to the living room and both sat on the couch. Sarah finally broke the silence with a sigh.

"What in the world are we supposed to do? I mean, getting married always means a certain amount of personal sacrifice but this…"

Jareth took her hand. "I know. It's far too much to ask. If I was only a citizen of the High City and not who I am, believe me, I would stay and try to make this work in spite of the difficulty. It would probably be much easier for me to adjust to a new world than you. I actually like yours for the most part. It's almost started to feel like home."

Sarah just closed her eyes and shook her head. "There's no point of even considering it if it's impossible."

Jareth looked at her earnestly. "So where does that leave us?"

"I don't know! If I had the answers we wouldn't be having this discussion."

"I know. I'm sorry," he said, putting an arm around her and nuzzling her hair for a moment.

"You have enough power to go back though, right?"

"In theory, yes, but just barely." He suddenly looked thoughtful. "Actually, I couldn't be certain I could successfully pull you through with me anyway."

Sarah's eyes went wide with the implication: no matter what happened he was going to have to initially leave her behind! It was a really really good thing they hadn't joined!

"The thing is, I could fetch you later. But you already said you didn't want that," he added quietly.

It was the worst rock-and-hard-place scenario on record. They simply sat for a while, Sarah resting on his chest as he held her close. She didn't want to lose him but that was exactly what was going to happen if they couldn't come to some sort of an arrangement soon. Jareth was having more-or-less the same thought. He knew he could simply use his magic to influence her decision but in good conscience he couldn't do it. He couldn't force her to go. Sarah swallowed and steeled her nerves.

"What's your world like?"

Jareth was almost scared to breathe. Was she saying what he thought she was? He closed his eyes and collected his thoughts.

"Do you remember standing on that hillside before you entered my Labyrinth, Sarah?"

"Yes."

"The sun was coming up just then, warm on your face. If you were paying attention - but of course you weren't - you could have smelled the air: crisp, clean, just a little dried plant smell. Naturally, you were then plunged into somewhere not terribly enjoyable, but if you had gone the other way over that hill you would have seen the High City in the distance in all its glory and splendor. True, it is not a city like Denver, with its overly tall buildings and closely compacted living quarters and work areas. It is an ancient site, older than any surviving city on earth. Some of the structures are original, held together with little more than glamour and paint, but it's still a spectacular sight - it stretches out for miles and miles and miles."

"It is chiefly inhabited by other faerie species along with what little is left of the sidhe population, and since we have no use for most things you would consider necessities to live, many from the lower classes are extremely unique artisans in their own fields of work, inventing trinkets and diversions you could not even begin to imagine. I suppose in a way the society isn't all that different from what you would experience somewhere on earth where people have titles and there is a defined hierarchy. As unpopular as I am, I've always been toward the top so I can't honestly say I know what life for the lower classes of sidhe and other species totally is like but I can say with certainty that no one is ever in real want or hunger. The Federation sees to that - in fact, I think that's the one thing that they actually do and do well."

"There are other petty 'kingdoms' surrounding mine and Queen Amara, who is to the northeast of us, has the human colony close to our eastern border. I don't frequent it as often as I used to but I still do occasionally. I have to tell you it gets a bit surreal even for me to think that I personally carried these people's ancestors over what seems like eons ago for them. There's respect but distance in that direction; the situation is understandably awkward but the Goblin Kingdom is officially on amiable terms with the human colony and I import some of our necessities from them. What they can't supply I buy or trade for from Syl, mostly. I mentioned that his kingdom to the north of mine is the breadbasket of the region. It's beautiful country up there: vast rolling hills and streams they divert for irrigation, with some forest between us, so lush and green parts of it are almost tinged blue."

"There is a reason that the region is colloquially called The Underground but it has to do with the technical explanation of where we are in relation to Earth, and even with your considerable academic background it would only give you a headache if I told you. I suppose you could say we're like your world's back pocket," he smiled, "we can see your sun, moon and stars, but they appear differently. Within our dimension, however, we really don't know the boundaries of our world; far away from our cluster of populated epicenters the borders change frequently. The mapmakers simply can't keep up. And I mean drastic changes: oceans and deserts and wastelands and seemingly unending forests appear and disappear regularly in a matter of days. Scholars have studied the phenomena for millennia and we're still far from understanding it. It just seems to be a slight anomaly of the dimension we're in. My siblings and I used to camp as near the edge as we dared as children: you could hunt small prey in the forest, swim in a warm sea, and explore ranges of sand dunes all in the same place in the same week if you were lucky. I have sometimes thought that perhaps our whole world is traveling but we simply do not notice it, in the way that you see the changing bodies in the heavens rather than feeling the movement of the planet beneath you as it spins and orbits the sun. The religious hypothesis is that the gods are moving us where the winds of fate are favorable and the magic is strongest but really it's as much a guess as anything else. Every once in a great while someone will actually spot another person out in that wilderness - nomads of some kind - but no one has ever been able to get close enough to even say hello before they run away or vanish. By the accounts, they look a lot like us, but the hue of skin differs dramatically with each story. Perhaps they are as confused at being adrift as we are. Anything is possible in my world if you believe strongly enough, although most people - even trained sidhe - lack the confidence to truly act on that. They are as content in their small circles, their routines, as most people on earth. But really - truly - anything is possible. That's what it's like, Sarah."

_A brave new world,_ Sarah thought. Some of the things he had brought up were staggering to the imagination. Some of it just sounded a lot like the Old World with magical beings. But he still hadn't mentioned… "And what about life with all those goblins and the other… colorful inhabitants of your realm?"

Jareth grimaced. "Annoying."

"Annoying? That's it? After that huge, glowing report on the rest of your world the corner that you rule is just annoying to you?"

"Sarah, you asked for the truth and this is it. I have nothing to offer you personally. My kingdom is inhabited by hyperactive cretins whose idea of a good time is seeing how fast they can get under my skin so I bog one! And they just keep coming back for more! The forest is dangerous and the Labyrinth, which accounts for over 90% of the land, is almost totally uninhabited, and completely unusable for anything else! I am not going to candy-coat my life; it is not an easy one and I can think of thousands of places where you would no doubt be happier. But it's all I have."

Sarah thought. "Are you ever able to get out and about?"

"Seldom, but I imagine you could if you so desired."

Silence.

"What's the castle like?"

"Well, it was built as a fortress and a prison so it's all stone but there are many different rooms. My living quarters are in the top tower and a couple other rooms are kept well-furnished in case I ever have company. There's a library."

"And the rest of the castle?"

He put a hand over his eyes, massaging his temples.

"- is currently a sty." He stopped abruptly. "Come to think of it, the whole castle is probably trashed at this point; I've been away for so long they've no doubt taken the place completely over. With any luck, it's still standing."

"And you're expecting me to move into that mess without even trying to clean first?"

"Of course not, how could I?! That would be…so…Sarah," his eyes were wide with hope and disbelief, "are you …actually saying-"

"What I'm saying is…I'll plan on it. I can't go right away. There's a lot at stake here."

Jareth felt as if his heart would burst and took her reverently in his arms.

"Then I will have to move the stars to make life in my home perfect," he kissed the side of her neck, "unmitigated," he kissed the hollow of her throat, "bliss," he murmured against her skin. Within moments they were kissing and nothing else in the world mattered.


	22. 21 Hours, 36 Minutes

Chapter 22 - 21 Hours, 36 Minutes

Thoughts of the past and future kept turning over in Sarah's brain: by this time tomorrow, Jareth would be gone. Gone. She would finally be free of him - but she no longer wanted to be free. She wanted him. At least she thought she did, but the relationship had just progressed so fast… They'd been living under the same roof for months now and he'd just confessed his feelings for her only a couple of days ago. If only there was more time! The thought of never seeing him again was unbearable but she couldn't just pick up and leave her world at the drop of a hat, either. There was so much at stake for both of them and it seemed that fate was about to tear him away from her just as they had gotten close. It was beyond unfair; it was downright cruel and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She looked up at the clock again. 2:29. She was wide awake and she had to get up at 6:00 tomorrow.

_No, __today_, she corrected herself. On impulse, she got up and quietly made her way to the living room. Jareth's drama-queeny 'alteration' of the air mattress had been squatting in her living room every night like a gypsy wagon. _At least he's been getting his beauty sleep, __geez_, she lightly shook her head with a half-smile. Carefully she walked up to the carved footboard and lightly lifted back the drape at the edge; it was pitch-black inside. Sensing that his sanctuary had an intruder, Jareth woke up.

"What's the matter, Sarah?"

She was suddenly embarrassed for needlessly waking him up.

"I…it was nothing, never mind…sorry," she shook her head, turning to go, when she felt a small 'come-hither' tug - a friendly, teasing gesture that went as quickly as it came.

"Oh come, _come_," his voice was as velvet as the dark, "there must be some reason or you wouldn't be here. You _know_ you can't keep secrets from me, darling, so you might as well just tell."

"…I couldn't sleep. I just kept thinking about tomorrow. I mean …tonight."

He tried making light of it. "Planning an after-party, are we?"

"Jareth_, _please; this isn't funny."

He sighed but his voice sounded affectionately amused. "Come here." A split-second later he had on loose, silk pants and she climbed into the right side of the covers, closing the drape behind her. He propped himself up on his elbow to face her. "I suppose you want to do this the hard way…"

"What's the easy way?"

"I render you instantly unconscious."

"…no."

"I thought not."

Sarah snuggled in under the thick comforter, hugging him with his right arm supporting her neck in a loose embrace. He could be so perfect sometimes that it made her want to cry. Or maybe she was just starting to get emotional because she knew she was losing him.

"I just can't believe that you're leaving."

"I was beginning to think it would never happen myself," he tried to half-joke.

"Jareth…" Her voice was almost breaking. He reached over and stroked her hair with his free hand.

"I know, love," he said gently, "but crying won't make things any better. What we have is now and we should enjoy each other while we may. I don't want to forget anything about you, precious Sarah." He turned his body so he could face her. It was black as a cave in there but Jareth could still see her, trying desperately to make out his face in the darkness. He would produce light for her in a moment but for now he wanted her remaining senses heightened from her lack of vision. His arms encircled her and he held her possessively close, breathing in the scent of her hair, making a wave of tingles wash down her back. "My Sarah," he breathed, "how I will miss you."

She closed her eyes as one treacherous tear escaped. He continued in a methodically sensuous, breathy tone, lazily tracing her face, her lips, the hollow of her throat.

"Do you realize how intoxicating you are to me? I stole into your bed the very first day I was here just to relish your scent. Do you realize how many years it has been since anyone has touched my bare hands, let alone because of attraction? I am a patient man and I am willing to be patient, but with you near me I unravel at the edges; I burn like a candle lit at both ends. You set me ablaze."

One of his hands caught in her hair as he shifted and began to run hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of her neck to her collarbone. Sarah clung to him, reeling in the power of his mouth on her body, never wanting the feeling to cease as he slowed down on the way back up to hover over her mouth. She could feel his lips only millimeters away from hers, his warm breath on her face, and it was supreme torture. Suddenly there was faint light in the room as if there were a nightlight. And then she realized there was: a crystal, perched perfectly on top of the center ornament of the headboard, sparkling, giving off just enough light that she could see him. His eyes were dark and it wasn't because of the insufficient light. The pale-blue figure in front of her leaned in and kissed the edge of her lips askew, parting them involuntarily before gently dipping in for the kill. Sarah's head tended to reel when he kissed her, but the pleasurable feeling had been noticeably growing stronger from previous encounters. It probably had to do with his power coming back but it was seriously the last thing on her mind as he pressed her body to his tightly, quietly systematically devouring her mouth as if it were his last meal before execution. His insist, steady rhythm was entrancing and Sarah found herself losing the will to resist him, her inhibitions falling away more and more with every stroke of his tongue. Her body finally followed her desire and she ground against him. He suddenly broke away and looked at her dazed face, panting. Little gold sparkles had begun to dance in the room.

"See what I mean?!" he said in his regular voice. Sarah groaned and rolled over, hot and bothered and unable to do anything about it.

"You're the horrible tease, you know that?"

"I am withholding for you."

"Yeah, I know, mortals and gods."

"It isn't like that…you know that," he said gently, lying back down behind her, one arm draped around her waist. "I said this was the hard way; we're not even getting rest, let alone sleep."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Yours, naturally, for coming here and tempting me in my own bed," he teased.

"Do you want me to leave?"

His grip tightened around her waist.

"Never," he growled, lightly nipping her ear, giving her chills. "At least not until morning."

Sarah suddenly remembered. "My alarm-"

"Is turned off. I will make sure you get to work on time. Now, unless your pretense was just a shameless ruse so you could play with fire," he kissed a sensitive spot behind her ear, hearing her wordless response, "you said that you came here because you could not sleep. Relax, Sarah; morning is a long ways off and you are safe in my arms. There will be time enough to worry tomorrow. Yes, I know - 'today'. Where I am from, today is when the sun is actually out and the nights are cool and long and peaceful with the large crystal moon shining brilliantly overhead and one lone owl floating effortlessly through the deep velvet sky chasing the stars…usually me."

Sarah groaned aloud and laughed a little.

"I just ruined the visualization, didn't I?"

"Only completely."

"Then perhaps we should try another one."

"No really, it's okay, you don't have to."

"Ah, you are underestimating my powers of persuasion," he smiled knowingly.

"The fact that I'm even here should be proof enough of that."

"True, that." He couldn't be quite certain but it almost sounded as if she were apprehensive of something he didn't know about. "What's wrong, Sarah?"

"I - just no suggestion, okay? You're too good at this as it is," she finally blurted out, seeming ruffled.

"The truth surfaces. Interesting phobia…very well. No suggestion, I promise. I shall simply state the obvious."

"The obvious," she repeated, nonplussed. He deeply chuckled.

"How much you have yet to learn about your own body, dear."

"Like what?!"

"Peace, it wasn't meant as an insult, darling. Humans have all sorts of strange quirks. Trick mechanisms. Your current knowledge of the subject only grazes the surface of what is truly possible." He sighed deeply against her hair, triggering tingles all the way down her spine as well as other parts, making her gasp. The light extinguished. "Let's stick to the here and now. Is it warm in here?"

"Yeah, but it isn't as hot as the rest of the house."

"Too cool?"

"No."

"Comfortably warm?"

"Yes."

"Face me."

"No," she teased.

"Sarah,"

"You're always telling me 'do this', 'do that'" she mimicked his voice. "I'm staying put for a change; you move."

Jareth sighed and deftly climbed over her without actually getting out of the blankets. He settled back down. "Better?"

"Yes," she smiled. He reached down and caught both of her hands, cupping them in his.

"Are your hands warm?"

"Yes, very."

"Too hot?"

"No."

"_Warm_," he drawled, his voice rich velvet again.

"…oh yes." The reaction was already happening; she was relaxing automatically. It was an interesting little trick - something as simple as warmth in the right places could trigger calm in these creatures.

"Think about it," he said huskily. There was silence for a few moments as a strange, quiet tranquility settled within Sarah. Beautiful, love, rapt; there weren't words for the feeling. She hadn't felt anything like it in her life. "Both the mattress and the comforter are stuffed with a substance more delicate than down. Is it comfortable?"

"Very soft," she replied quietly.

"Not too soft?" his voice gentle and lulling.

"…no."

"Good," he purred. He let the information sink in on its own. Again silence.

_Any more of this…_

"You've been lying there for quite some time now," he continued smoothly, "especially since you flatly refused to budge," he lightly teased her. She smiled absently. "Are any of your muscles still tense?"

"No…" She felt almost as if she were under a spell, feeling the weight of the comforter, the cozy warmth of the bed, his presence near. Every last muscle in her body was completely relaxed, even her neck. Her eyes were closed but she couldn't remember precisely when it had happened. Jareth's voice had become a slow, deliberate croon when next he spoke, as if tasting his own words. "What a delicious way to waste a few hours, mm?" he breathed. He was amazed to hear what sounded like a light sob.

"I don't want to waste any more time!" she passionately choked out.

"Oh Sarah," he sighed fondly, moving to embrace her again. As he kissed her forehead she dove under his chin and kissed the delicate hollow of his throat, catching him off-guard; he gasped in unexpected pleasure. In another moment there was light again. She looked back up at him with a guilty little smile. His look was one of mischievous playfulness but it was beginning to wear thin. "Third try and we use the charm."

Sarah looked confused. "Don't you mean 'third time's the charm'?"

"No, I mean this is the third attempt and it's nearly 3:00 in the morning. I am using the charm as I had wanted to originally."

"That's okay, I'll just go back to bed." She shifted as if to leave.

"Oh no you don't," he smiled, catching her by the wrist, "you wouldn't get any sleep in there. Besides, if I start something I see it through to completion and you are still very conscious in spite of my best efforts."

"Maybe you just can't do it," she said a bit uneasily.

"Oh, I believe I can and will but-"

"I have to trust you, I know," she said in exasperation. He chuckled.

"You know how this works."

"We've only been doing it for the better part of a year."

"Yes, but this has nothing to do with power; it has to do with us. Sarah, love, if it weren't for extenuating circumstances would you still trust me?"

"Well, of course, but wait - are you saying that if I told you to go do something that sounded dangerous, possibly even suicidal, you'd just up and do it? No questions?"

"In a heartbeat." His voice was dead serious. Sarah sobered quite suddenly, whatever words she was about to say dying in her throat. Jareth reached up to stroke her cheek. "I know. This has come too far too fast. I have yet to truly prove myself."

"It's not that, it's …I…I just-"

"Shh, it's alright, love. I understand."

"But how can you?" she shook her head. "You're just so perfect and …"

"Me? Perfect?" he sounded amused. "Now there's a new one. At least it's not been said of my personality before…"

"Oh you!" She batted him across the chest. He laughed.

"Now there's the Sarah I know and love!" He suddenly grabbed the same wrist and brought her hand to his mouth. He began slowly kissing the tips of each finger, his eyes locked with hers. If Jareth wasn't an aphrodisiac, Sarah didn't know what one was. Her breath and pulse were quickening and her body was thrumming with desire just from that simple act. He ended by tracing the pulse point on her wrist with the very tip of his tongue before plunging back into her mouth. As far as Sarah's body was concerned, he could ravish her right here and now and save her brain a lot of trouble and heartache tomorrow; she would have to go with him. But his movements didn't seems as passionate as before, there was much more method to it as he secured her arms by her waist with his free arm. She couldn't move and it suddenly dawned on her what he was really doing. She broke out of the kiss.

"You don't have to…"

"Yes I do. This is not only foolproof, Sarah, it is idiot-proof. It must be performed quickly with complete intention, it does not accrue over time as some magics of a similar nature do, reversal is stupidly easy and if anything at all should happen to me the spell would break immediately."

"…what is it?"

"The Rule of Three. It can be done for any number of reasons. The first stroke is enchantment, the second sleep."

"And the third?"

"Will never be used, I promise you."

"What _is_ it?" she pressed apprehensively.

"Death."

She shuddered. Jareth said nothing but simply embraced her yet again. This time Sarah was passive. She reasoned that if he had been interested at all in that he could've done so easily a hundred times over by now.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear, "I could never knowingly hurt you, Sarah. Never." _And I will say it over and over and over again until you __believe__ me, _he thought a bit sadly. He reached up with his right hand and stroked her head from the very top to the very base along the back. Sarah suddenly felt everything get very fuzzy, including her thoughts. Her breathing slowed slightly and she felt as if she must be dreaming. Jareth gave her a gorgeous smile and kissed her long and deep. She responded in slow motion, every last thought swept away by wave after wave of pleasure. At last he broke away once he was sure she was good and starry-eyed and purred in her ear, "Dream of me, my love," as he made the second stroke. She was instantly asleep with just a hint of a lazy smile lingering on her mouth. She was beautiful. Jareth looked down at her - contented and happy at last - with an aching in his chest. How would he ever endure her absence? He held her somnolent form close, taking comfort in her presence, and after a long one-sided argument with the gods fell asleep himself. The crystal perched on the headboard was counting away the hours, keeping silent vigil over the pair below.

* * *

"Sarah, awake!"

Sarah vaguely heard the cultured command as her eyelids fluttered for a moment before she suddenly regained full consciousness. And gasped: she was fully dressed and perfectly clean with her briefcase already packed and slung over her shoulder - she was facing the front door! She could feel her hair was pulled back tightly in one of Jareth's signature plaits. She whirled to face him with a mixture of shocked surprise and delight. He was standing there with her travel mug and a half-smile. She hugged him with a huge grin on her face.

"You're the best!"

"Glad you like it," he said amusedly, pulling back to look her over. "Did I miss anything."

"Nope," she shook her head with a smile.

"Good. I wasn't entirely sure what all you did to prepare in the morning before going to work." He handed her the mug. "I took the liberty of flavoring your coffee. If you're going to insist on destroying your nerves with that drug the process should at least be enjoyable."

Sarah raised an eyebrow and took a sip. Amaretto…dark chocolate…peach. She rolled her eyes with a smirk at the last one. She would've never thought to put a fruit with amaretto, though; it was actually quite good. She nodded approval.

"All right. One last little surprise." He looked as excited as a little kid. "Open the door. Go on," he urged her impatiently. Not having _any _idea what to expect, Sarah tentatively did so and she couldn't believe what met her eyes: it was the very back of a locked bathroom stall! She gaped in disbelief.

"Are you serious?" she whispered. "Where is this?"

"The first-floor research facility at GELA just down the hall from your department's break room. Can you believe it was the only place in the whole damn complex where the exterior hallway's security camera was damaged? Now you have ten minutes before your first meeting. When you are ready to come home, the door will be waiting in the same place on the other side. It will be invisible to all other eyes - push it to open it. Try to have a good day, dear."

She turned and gave him a quick peck on the mouth before confidently striding through the breach in space and time, pulling the door closed behind her. The universe seemed empty and silent without her. Jareth sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. There was much to prepare.

* * *

Sarah's presentation to Nikola Motors in the lecture hall had ended with applause - not just polite applause, mind you; people were actually standing up. The president of the company was at the podium, shaking her warmly by the hand. The solutions she hypothesized fit their current mechanical problems together like lost puzzle pieces. The image was finally complete. It was nothing short of genius. Testing would begin immediately and commercial production was expected to follow in as little as three years. Two men were standing in the far back, feigning applause so as not to attract attention. The one to the left spoke quietly without moving his lips.

"I don't know how she got those blueprints and files but she did."

"Oh be serious - how could she have even gotten into the field? The hanger is actively guarded 24 hours a day. They watch the field even when we're not out there. I've personally seen the security film of the entire area for the nights prior at least eight times and it's getting old. I don't see anybody, the security officers on duty swear up and down nobody was there. And they've been through lie detectors! I'm telling you, it's impossible."

"I know it's impossible, but she did it somehow…"

"Oh, so now you actually think that she trained that little barn owl we saw? Did it have a camera strapped to it anywhere? No. Did it steal anything? No. We'd know if it was a machine. And it wasn't! It was just a barn owl, are you crazy?! Next you're going to be suspecting the rattlesnakes and the field mice! She sure-as-hell couldn't afford a private satellite and all of this is carefully sponged off of the public ones."

"If we expose her-"

"You'll have the CIA breathing down our necks! I've already talked to the head of the department about beefing up security surrounding the grounds. It won't happen again."

"It had better not."

"Oh, give the woman some credit; she made the engine design fit the car on her own. Williams is rumored to be a workaholic and they've had this dead-end project on their hands for months now," the man on the right smiled ruefully. "Let her have her moment in the sun."

* * *

"You were brilliant!" Irina pulled her aside later - everyone else left at 4:00.

"I couldn't have done it without him." Sarah didn't have to specify who 'him' was. Irina gasped.

"…no!"

"Yes."

"But-"

Sarah shushed her - talking about it was far too risky. Irina nodded with a small smile, understanding.

"You could not have done your hair without him! I have never seen such complex braiding in my life! I knew from the start he was a fashion king."

"You mean drama queen," Sarah jabbed.

"He's that, too," Irina laughed. The smile dropped from Sarah's face with a sigh as she looked at the floor.

"I'm losing him tonight."

"What?! No!"

"He has enough power; he's going back home."

"But you cannot just let this die; you must go with him!"

"And what about my family? What about you? What about this?" she gestured around her. "Irina, I'm needed here, just as much as he's needed there. I have to stay. …at least for right now," she finished quietly.

Irina watched her friend with concern as they walked over to Sarah's desk to get her things. She knew Sarah was trying hard to do the right thing here but this separation would all but kill her whether they had physically bonded or no. No man would ever take his place in her heart if she were to live forever. It was painfully obvious that they loved each other even though it was very new. They just fit together somehow, it was strange and wonderful at the same time. What a queen the Underworld would have someday. For now, Sarah seemed to be making one last pit stop before they left. Only she pulled Irina into the bathroom with her. It was deserted except for them.

"I wanted to show you this." Sarah walked to the stall at the very end and motioned Irina over. Apprehensive but intrigued, she followed her. Sarah walked around the toilet to the wall and pushed the hidden door all the way open. Irina did a double take and gaped at the sight of Sarah's living room! "It was a goodbye present just for today." Sarah sounded like she was about ready to cry. She turned back and Irina hugged her.

"It will all work out. He loves you, he will wait for you, yes?"

Sarah nodded, pulling away.

"Then go to him. Give him my regards and best wishes."

"I will," Sarah nodded as she turned away from Irina with a sad smile and walked through the open portal, closing up the tile wall behind her. Irina couldn't resist giving it a shove: it was only wall again. Sarah was gone.

* * *

Jareth had heard their exchange from the other room but didn't make any mention of it as he came out from the dining area. He was dressed in black from tip to toe. The sleeves were unusually tight and his shirt was laced all the way up to the collar. It had to be the most utilitarian outfit he made. He was unusually pale as well, but not pallid, his skin a true ivory. His eye markings were as pronounced as they ever got. Even his hair had extra shimmer. He looked every inch the Goblin King tonight, understatedly imposing and formal with an unearthly foreboding. Except he was still gloveless and smiling at her.

"Welcome home, love."

Sarah dropped her things just inside the door and rushed into his outstretched arms, kissing him with surprisingly heated urgency. He immediately returned her brazen assault on his mouth with searing open-mouthed kisses that bordered on violence in intensity, relentlessly stroking her mouth with his hot, velvet tongue. Sarah groaned against him in response and her right leg wrapped around his waist as they continued, his hands supporting her back, running through her hair. She almost sobbed the sensation was so wonderful. She was melting, all conscious thought had fled the onslaught of sensations her body was facing. She was completely ready to throw all caution to the wind when he suddenly broke the kiss, meeting her dazed eyes. Her body railed against the cruel withdrawl of his mouth. He leaned in again and whispered against her mouth, teasing her lips to try to follow him.

"You will hunger for my kisses, love. No mortal man will ever be able to satisfy you now." He slowly closed his eyes and captured her mouth again in a soft, sensuous kiss that shook her to the core it was so achingly sweet, she could've died from it. He suddenly, deliberately hit a pressure point on her tongue that made it mind bending; she was literally seeing stars and would've fallen over right then and there had he not been holding her she was so dizzy. All she could do was respond. At last he slowly broke it, the haze only clearing when she suddenly realized that he was willing her leg to unwind from him and snake back down to the floor, the room temporarily brighter from those golden sparkles.

"Sorry, my love," he said with a sad smile, "were you fae I would oblige you this instant. But as things are..."

Sarah sighed and rested her head on his shoulder as he hugged her. She memorized his feel, his dimensions, his scent. She suddenly realized that he had changed it - he had made it deliberately intoxicating, almost addictively spicy so she couldn't seem to get enough of him. But it wasn't cologne: it was him! It was the first time that she realized that his body had absolutely no smell whatsoever; he was simply imposing different scents on himself, an odd reminder that he wasn't human.

_It must be hard_, she thought suddenly; he was trying so hard to accommodate her physically when some of the things she considered natural were nothing of the kind for him. _Better make the most of it, he's doing his darndest_. She leaned into the nape of his neck and inhaled deeply, almost immediately getting lost in the aphrodisiac power. Jareth smiled at her discernment and reaction thereof. He wanted her to enjoy him while she could, before he had to leave her behind. These last precious hours had to be savored. Secretly he wanted to leave behind an impression, a memory, a standard that no mortal man could possibly pass when it came to pleasure and satisfaction. He knew that Sarah loved him as surely as he loved her but what would happen after they had been separated for some time? Humans were notoriously gregarious creatures and were known to sometimes prefer bad company over no company at all, loneliness being such an agony for the species. He wanted to ensure that Sarah remained his, that no other man would ever be able to hold a candle to him. It was he who pulled away.

"I have made us a light supper. We must eat and then there is much left to finish."

* * *

Much to Sarah's surprise, Jareth's definition of 'much to finish' was quite mundane. He was tying up all the loose ends of his existence on earth. All the plastic silverware was put in the apartment building's recycling bin. They returned the books he had checked out from the Arcadia library - he made a point of visiting the courtyard. They drove to the mesa one last time and made a circuit of the defunct shooting range at the top; there wasn't enough time to go hiking, besides the fact that it was dusk and all the rattlesnakes were out. As they drove back to her apartment he informed her that he had sent along his personal affects ahead of him earlier that morning - the suit of human clothes, books, CDs, and the three masks he had purchased for himself. He had forced himself to sleep almost all afternoon; he was taking no chances this time.

As they reentered her apartment building, Sarah noted with a pang of loss with what grace he took the stairs; nothing human could ever move so fluidly, so effortlessly. When they reached her door, he noticed her blink back a tear as she fumbled in her purse for her keys. He lightly grasped her wrist, stopping her. She looked up into his eyes. He cupped her cheek and brought her mouth to his. His kisses were slow and gentle at first but grew long and deep as she continued to respond to his ministrations. Within minutes they were shamelessly making out like teenagers, heedless of the gold sparkles that were gradually filling the upper hallway. He had her backed against the door and their hands freely roamed each other's bodies, not seeming to be able to get enough of each other. Sarah tore her mouth away from his and began frantically devouring the curve of his jaw to his ear, first tasting the lobe then nibbling the round. Jareth gave a light appreciative groan and nearly fell into her as his knees went weak. As she continued to work her way down to his collarbone he closed his eyes in pleasure.

"Come _with_ me. Now," he panted. She stopped, half in a daze.

"What?"

"Come with me! Leave this life of unappreciated drudgery, this world of empty promises and broken dreams, this dying planet! I love you," he said simply, caressing her cheek and under her chin. "I don't want to see you get hurt by this place anymore! Come with me - tonight." He leaned in and heatedly murmured against her ear. "Come away. Be my queen. Oh, Sarah, all you have to do is want it. I wish…I wish…oh, I _wish_" he finally groaned. Sarah was so taken by what his mouth was doing to her that she almost began to mouth the 'I wish' herself. His free hand began to slowly trail down her front to the sensitive spot below her navel and began to stroke it with light pressure and she knit her brow in pleasure. "What do you wish, my darling?" he hoarsly whispered.

"I…I w-" And then the shock of what was really going on finally registered in her brain and she jumped with a gasp, fully alert. She stared at the disappointment written on his face almost with disbelief. "That was a dirty trick." She was a little disgusted with him but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. _Okay, he just tried to seduce me into going with him. __Easy__ there, Don Juan. _

"You can't blame a man for trying, can you?" he said quietly, eying the floor. She sighed and gave him a quick peck on the mouth before finally unlocking the door and going inside. He immediately began picking the duct tape off the inside doorknob, his gloves back on for the task. It had not escaped Sarah's notice that he was doing everything manually. She began to tackle the work he did on the kitchen sink. The air mattress was sitting innocuously by itself once more.

"I know it's silly but I was almost hoping you were going to leave that thing."

He smiled. "It just wouldn't do, dear. Spells like that always break down over time; it would be far too dangerous to leave sitting around indefinitely."

He walked over and knelt down, stripping the bed and folding the sheets nicely. With Sarah's help they deflated it and folded it back up into the box. She put it away in the closet while he draped the throw over the recliner. Everything was exactly the way it had been when he had arrived. It looked like he had never been there at all. He looked over at Sarah, still in her work attire. He had grown accustomed, perhaps even begrudgingly a bit fond, of seeing her dressed this way. It spoke of her station in life almost as much as his amulet proclaimed him a king. But he knew it wouldn't go over.

"Sarah, when I transport, I asked Morgan to look in on me to make sure everything goes as it should. In short, she is going to be seeing you as well. I'm afraid she's always been concerned with being popular among our social elite and, in consequence, she keeps to the old order."

"You're warning me she's going to see me as inferior."

"I'm afraid so. I'm hoping that we can change her mind over time but for now we need to at least take a stab at a good first impression. Would you humor an old man just once more and wear the dress? I want her to see you at your very best." He didn't have to mention which one; Sarah knew there was only one as far as he was concerned.

"Say your right words," she teased. Jareth sighed in faux exasperation and quirked a smile.

"Pretty please?"

"Be right back." She ducked into her room and closed the door. Minutes later she reemerged in the ivory gown. Jareth prowled around her, straightening this, tightening the laces a bit, making sure everything was absolutely perfect. They sat in silence on the couch as he undid her hair. Sarah was torn inside; she was sad to be losing him but nervous and excited, too. This was it, the climax of what they had been working toward all these months. In less than fifteen minutes, one way or another, it would all be over. Okay, she was very nervous, petrified that something bad would happen to him and she would be helpless to stop it. He stroked her unbound hair and found her pulse pounding in her neck.

_She's scared enough as it is but we still need to go through the emergency drill, _he thought sympathetically. He got up and shoved the coffee table into the hallway, making a decent amount of space in the living room. "One last thing," he announced quietly. And with that his armor appeared before her very eyes: the savage-looking ridged breastplate, the shoulder guard, the high-necked ragged black cloak that just screamed magic. His hands were gloved in black once more. He looked exactly as he had that first night he had appeared when she was fifteen. That fateful night that had changed their lives forever. Except there was tenderness in his eyes as he approached her and gave her his hand to rise. He gently embraced her, careful not to shove her too hard against the breastplate. She hugged him hard anyway, not caring that it dug in uncomfortably.

_Please don't say goodbye_, she thought as one tear finally escaped down her cheek.

"It isn't forever, love," he whispered. He pulled away enough that he could face her and kissed her between her eyebrows, right on her third eye. Incredible love swept through her; she almost sobbed at the intensity of it. For a moment it was as if his heart was within her and then the sensation was gone and she immediately mourned the loss. His eyes were serious as he placed one hand over his heart. "Know that this is yours, now and forever." He just managed to get the sentence out before she shot forward and kissed him full on the mouth. He returned her passionate endeavor for a moment but presently had to break away. "I'm sorry, love, but we don't have much time," he said, glancing at the clock in the kitchen. 11:56. "Come, there is one last thing I must show you." She followed him over to the front door. "Now, when we do this I shall stand in the middle of your living room but you need to stay put right here. If you get any closer we run the risk of you being pulled through with me. Not that I would mind the company, but somehow I don't think you'd ever quite forgive me," he teased with a lazy half-smile. "But, in all seriousness, for your own safety you need to stay back."

"Do you want me to leave while you do this? I mean I _could_-"

"No. I want you right here to see. This is the result of your handiwork, dear, and even if I wasn't hopelessly in love I would be very proud of you. This has been quite the journey for both of us and one that I dearly hope to continue. But there is a word of warning here. I know the risk of this happening is very small but you need to know: there is the chance that the magic could become chaotic if it is too strong for me to control. I haven't done this in over twenty earth years and it is the first time I will have tried it with the staff augmenting my power. The misfire is unmistakable - it looks like uncontrolled strands of electricity. If this happens you must leave this room immediately, do you understand? You couldn't help me - you could be killed for gods' sake! If it starts coming through the door you must exit the building. This is why I asked Morgan to look in - so she can intervene if anything untoward should happen."

Sarah was aghast. "I thought you said you were ready!"

"This is as ready as it gets, dear," he laughed nervously.

"But what about my neighbors?!"

"It can't be helped; there wouldn't be enough time. You-"

He stopped in mid-sentence as if listening to something Sarah couldn't hear. His eyes were full of excited intent as a smile slowly spread across his face.

"She's here."

Sarah felt a cold chill run up her back and shivered. It was one thing for it to be someone she knew, but it was beyond creepy knowing it was a strange woman who viewed her much as she herself would view a chimpanzee.

"Don't be nervous," Jareth whispered reassuringly, turning to point. "She's viewing us from right there, just above your T.V." He inclined his head in greeting with a slight smirk. "Curtsey, dear," he managed to say without moving his lips.

_Oh! _Feeling like a total dunce, Sarah lightly clasped the sides of her skirt with her fingertips and pliéd low to the floor, bowing her head. _She's __royalty__ for crying out loud; this is standard protocol,_ Sarah reflected, suddenly surprised at how casual Jareth had always been.

"You may rise," he said flatly. "As much as she likes to pretend, she isn't the queen," he stated emphatically in the scry's direction with a teasing smile. He turned back to Sarah and caught her hand, bringing it to his lips. He met her eyes. "It's time," he whispered. There was emotion in his eyes for a moment but it was quickly schooled into that enigmatic, haughty expression that he wore like his gloves as he gave her fingertips a light squeeze before releasing her and walking to the center of the room. He reached out to where the cane was hidden in the wall and within moments it was in his hands. He lifted it up, pointed to the sky, gripped tightly with his right hand. He closed his eyes and began the incantation. There were no words that Sarah could recognize but she knew it was the poem from his sense of stanza. As she watched, the sigils on the staff began to burn with a fierce, white light. Jareth was beginning to _glow_ as if he had some inner source of light himself. It got brighter and brighter until Sarah had to shield her eyes, he was bright as a star, his voice was _echoing_-

And then it stopped. There was no sound except her own pounding heart and shallow breathing. No light but from the lamps. Her hands were shaking as she took them away from her eyes. There were sparkles all over the floor. Jareth was gone. He had done it! He was finally home at long last, safe and sound. Sarah fell to her knees in exhaustion and wept.

* * *

It took a few moments but Jareth finally rematerialized in his study where his sister Morgan was waiting for him. Her flowing green gown contrasted sharply with her long, bright red hair and deep-set ice-blue eyes. She had been elegantly stationed on a thin piece of furniture which resembled a chaise lounge but she rose upon his arrival.

"Well," she stated smoothly, "thank the gods you arrived in one piece."

"Morgan!" Jareth practically ran across the small room and gave her a big bear hug, taking her completely by surprise.

"It's good to see you, too, brother," she said coolly with a smirk, returning it slightly, feeling him freeze: he had forgotten! It was considered unseemly for an adult sidhe to have such open bursts of emotion. He immediately pulled away as she straightened the front of her dress. Her small smile lingered and there was a distinctively mischievous sparkle in her eyes but she made no comment. "Of course I'm dying to know how the king of mischief and mayhem managed to pull this one off," she acidly teased him. "In all seriousness though, Jareth, it is a feat for the history books. You should be very proud of yourself."

"I don't deserve all the glory," he said quietly. "I had help."

"Ah, yes, who was that mortal girl you had recognize me just now? I trust she was useful to you somehow. You don't neck with just anyone, and, besides, since when do you say 'please'?"

Jareth took a stunned step back. "How much did you-"

"Enough," she said flatly.

"But how could you have possibly…I would have known!"

"And that is the wonderful part: it's a brand-new trick involving a mirror! It takes away the feeling of being watched! The alchemist of the High Court just invented it. I'll have to show you when you have some time," she smiled. She certainly had just made the situation about five times more complicated. He had planned on introducing her to the truth slowly and now he had to do it all in one foul swoop. He swallowed.

"Do you remember the girl who bested the Labyrinth?"

"The one personally responsible for your disappearance? Of course! I don't think I've ever heard a human name uttered so many times in Court! Sarah Williams, wasn't it? What of her?"

"That was her."

It was Morgan's turn to look shocked. "No!…oh, well done!" she briefly applauded him with a growing smile. "I suppose she's wasting away as we speak."

Eons in Court had taught Jareth how to hold his tongue when necessary but it was proving extraordinarily hard. He had to remind himself that as far as his sister was concerned, the topic was not overtly malicious.

"I did not physically bond her to me, nor did I drain her."

Morgan suddenly looked confused. "But…then…how did you…"

"I earned her trust, respect, and affection over a several months' time."

"Several months?!"

"I lived at her residence."

Morgan just shook her head, dumbfounded. "Oh, Jareth…you should've thought of your kingdom first. I will hold my tongue for the sake of the family but…how could you? Did you not think of what chaos your absence caused? You should've come home immediately!"

Jareth was a bit miffed at getting such a tongue-lashing from his little sister!

"What would you have had me do? Kill her?! She had done no wrong!"

"If that was what was necessary, then yes! I mean I know you've always been a bit squeamish when it comes to bloodletting, Jareth, but she's only human!" she laughed flippantly. Jareth Ravensong's ire was legendary in spite of how hard it was to truly raise it. Morgan had only heard gossip through her channels from unlucky servants but she had never seen the full brunt of his fury. As she saw him standing before her, hair flying, trying to keep his power from lashing out at her as his eyes blazed, she had an uneasy feeling that she was about to find out firsthand. Hoping she wouldn't need it, she started forming a small shield spell behind her, backing up as he began to slowly advance on her. His voice was quiet but deadly.

"Only human? _ONLY __**HUMAN**__**?!**_" he suddenly screamed. "Morgan, how can you still be so ignorant?! How can you still not understand?! True, their lives are short but they make use of them! Have you done anything even remotely noteworthy in the last few centuries?! I dare say you haven't! Our time is so precious," he dripped in an ugly, poisonous saccharine, "why waste it in doing anything useful! True, they don't have magic - so they use their brains! My love - yes, you heard right, my love - stayed behind so she could continue to better her world! She's smart, she's an inventor for gods' sake! And she has more heart than you or I will ever begin to understand! She is to be my **wife**! Still don't believe me? **BEHOLD!**"

And with that he thrust all of his aboveground memories into her mind's eye. Morgan gasped as it all came flooding through: an impossibly tall city made of steel, the GELA plant, the cars, the music, the books, and a human woman nearing middle age named Sarah, smiling, laughing, screaming at him, crying, dancing in a room swarming in colored light, taking care of him when he was deathly weak, them teasing each other, it went on and on and on. It was so disorienting that it allowed for no linear thought, it kept changing every half-second. Him as half an owl. Inside the mesa. A device called an elevator. Them crystal dancing. It was too much, she couldn't take much more and it suddenly stopped. Jareth was panting from exertion but he no longer looked angry, just desperate. Desperate for her to believe him and believe him to be correct. Desperate for her acceptance of his situation and his choice. She sighed.

"You know that even if you win me you still have to convince the rest of the world. If you follow through with this you will have to fight for every step forward."

"I know," he said tersely, running a hand through his hair, pacing away.

"And you've told her this?"

"I warned her that she wouldn't be accepted as an equal."

"Jareth, she won't be accepted at all. Our mother-"

"Will just have to learn to live with it!" he snapped.

"Has enough clout to blackball you from showing your face in the High City ever again."

That made him stop. He looked over his shoulder at her.

"…do you honestly think she would?"

"She might."

Silence.

"Well, what do you think at any rate?" he said tiredly, turned to face her again, leaning against his desk.

"I don't know what to think, Jareth. It's a very bizarre situation and I have only just learned about it. Perhaps if I had more information…I want you to be happy but you have a very long history of being rash and impulsive and I think if you aren't completely sure of yourself here the results are going to be disastrous for the both of you. I suppose what truly gives me pause is this love business. She knows you can't love her, doesn't she?"

"But I do."

"…you mean you are attracted to her, you are concerned about her well-being-"

"I love her."

A shiver went through Morgan. Had living in the human world actually changed him? She started again guardedly. "Surely you can't mean that. You know as well as I do that it's quite impossible. Do you feel all right?" She unceremoniously grabbed his wrist and began checking his vitals. Jareth simply laughed, shaking his head. "Odd. You feel well."

"I told you."

"But…"

"How do you know it's impossible?"

"We were taught it as mere babes-in-arms, brother! Our own parents are incapable. It is common knowledge."

"Yes, but have you ever tried?" His smile was growing.

"Of course not!"

"Then you don't know. True it is not the fierce, selfless flame of the human heart but it is quite strong in a blooming, encompassing sort of way. Would you like to feel it?"

Nervous but intrigued, Morgan swallowed and nodded. He would not consciously do something that he thought would truly harm her. He brought up his left hand and placed it over her heart. Almost immediately the torrent of emotion overtook her, taking her in waves, the sorrow and the joy, increasing sheer joy as she had never felt in her entire existence, intense feelings of caring, as if the whole world revolved around someone else, as if she couldn't live without them. She pulled away and turned before he could see her crying. It was overwhelming. And humans felt even stronger than this? She would die of such an intensity! She was suddenly unaccustomedly aware of how hard and cold she was inside. At least she was comfortably in control of herself again.

"I don't know that I like it; it's awfully unruly. Right up your alley, I suppose though," she said, turning back around. "At any rate, perhaps it's best that you've already found yourself a mate. There was engagement talk when the Court found out about your continued existence and physical vitality. Suddenly you're wanted back in the pot, so-to-speak."

"And, pray tell, which of my first cousins does the Court wish for me to seize upon?"

"There was some talk of Ariadne."

"Ariadne? That harpy?! She'd eat her own kind if she thought she could get away with it!"

"Really, I think that was the idea, Jareth. You aren't terribly popular in certain circles, you know. At least you have an excuse not to have to now. Presentation is going to be tricky on this one - everything shall ride on how well you can sway them. Stick to hard facts like her impact on your recovery and her human fertility and normal, biological things like that. I suppose it wouldn't hurt anything to tell them she's devoted to you but leave this whole mess of sidhe emotions out of it. You think I'm a tough crowd…perhaps it will be easier to sway them now than it would've been once. Three babies were live-born in your absence. They all have blue hands. The boy has blue feet."

Jareth just shook his head, quietly fuming. She knew this was a personal sore point, something that would concern him. Morgan nodded assent.

"They can't ignore this indefinitely. Present yourself as a voluntary pioneer - they might actually listen to you."

Jareth walked around his desk and sat down, resting his head in his hands.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this but I'm already beginning to miss Earth."

Morgan smiled. "A simpler life amongst simpler life forms?"

"Oh, there are problems aplenty and pettiness there, too, but nearly all of it centers around material things. Nothing like this," he gestured roughly to his surroundings.

"Yes, speaking of problems, I suppose I should warn you that there was no proxy ruler appointed at your disappearance. The goblins and other creatures who live here have been largely left to their own devices."

"What?! Why was there no one appointed?"

"Oh, believe me, they tried, but for some odd reason the Court doesn't allow siblings to occupy the same throne and no one else was willing to set foot in this place, let alone try to rule here! It really is a sty, Jareth. You're going to have to do something if you plan on bringing a human here; they're much more susceptible to disease than we are. Oh, and there is one more thing," she smiled wryly, opening one of the side drawers of the desk and taking out a bedraggled piece of parchment, placing it before him facedown. "The little buggers managed to set fire to part of the city and your neighbors were obliged to help put it out; the smoke could be seen twenty landstrides away. When the fire crews entered the city they found a few of these nailed to walls and pasted to posts. They looked rather weatherworn like they'd been there for quite some time. This one was the best for wear. Apparently you were missed."

And at this she turned it over gingerly and Jareth sighed and smirked, bemused: scrawled on the parchment was a very crude stick-figure drawing with spiky yellow hair, angry-looking eyes with pronounced eyebrows and a wide open mouth as if the figure were screaming at someone - it was painfully obvious that the caricature was supposed to be of him. The artist had managed the boots passably by smudging the ink a bit but had clearly tried and failed at hands numerous times from the level of ink saturation and had simply used it's own hands like stamps in the end. They had two fingers and a thumb apiece and were only two inches long. Emblazoned above the childishly rendered portrait were the words:

HAV

YOO

SEEEN

There was no further contact information or any clue as to who had done it. Letting him examine it, Morgan continued.

"I hesitate to think what they used for paint. I took the precaution of disinfecting it. I just thought you should see that."

"I think I know who did this. How many did you say there were?"

"They found at least twenty."

"It was definitely Dåshe. You'd think he was the portrait painter for the High Court with the way he takes his time with these. A job like this would've kept him preoccupied for weeks. I wonder where he found the colors, though," he said, thoughtfully tracing the bright purple eyebrows with a finger. "Usually he just steals ink bottles while I'm not looking."

Morgan was aghast. "And you just put up with this kind of behavior like there's nothing wrong?"

Jareth looked at her levelly. "If this is all the trouble they cause me in a day, I am a happy man. They're born for trouble; it's almost like it's in their genetic makeup. It's best to keep them busy doing something or they start tearing things apart and harassing each other. I even get them singing on occasion; nearly all can carry a tune. Dåshe is the one out of the whole motley crew that I don't have to worry about: he entertains himself."

"Well, I'm glad you can handle them. I transported quite a number of them to the Throne Room and immediately had to retreat in here because I was joyfully mobbed! I don't know how they feel about you, but they definitely need you. They need their leader."

Jareth resignedly nodded, standing back up with the drawing in his hand. "Best to get it over with," he sighed.

"Good, because I've had about all the fun I can stand with them! Good luck! Wait - you have told your lady-friend about your…situation?"

"She knows. She made quite a number of friends on her first trip here and still seems open to the idea."

"And you're sure she's sane?"

"Morgan…"

"I'm just saying-"

"I know. I have my work cut out for me. Things will be significantly better by the time she gets here, I assure you."

"I certainly hope so for your sake!" she laughed. "I wouldn't be anywhere other than this room for longer than five minutes! Do keep in touch, Jareth."

And with that she faded in a wisp of smoke. He simply stood there for a moment in silence. Personal solitude had always been a quiet burden and a daily hazard of his job but it seemed more profound now and he had strange vague pain in his chest which he absently registered as heartache. This was going to be a lot harder now, now that he knew what he was truly missing. Coldly steeling his resolve and his facial expression, he transported himself to the Throne Room.

* * *

General pandemonium and a few fistfights had broken out in Morgan's absence. He spotted Røem Bååbå, his prime minister, trying in vain to break up one of the fights, only to get pummeled and pushed out of the way. Jareth hadn't even been noticed. He had half a mind to simply retreat to his chambers and stay there until tomorrow morning but it was hardly a move befitting a king.

_And this is a kingdom?_ his mind countered but he acted before the logical part of his brain could sway him any further.

"**AHEM!**"

All the action in the room stopped instantly and all eyes immediately darted to him, wide with surprise and maybe a bit of the old terror. The distinct sound of somebody hitting the floor in a dead faint echoed clearly within the room. He stalked among them like a predator choosing suitable prey. At least they still feared him; that was something. He stopped in front of Røem Bååbå and knelt enough to be at his eye level. The little guy was shaking. With the horns on his helmet he just topped out at three-and-a-half feet tall.

"I-I tried ta control 'em, yor M-Majesty but them jus don't _lissen_…" No doubt he figured he was in for a bogging. To his complete surprise, Jareth simply clasped him on the shoulder with an enigmatic expression that was neither a frown nor a smile. Sort of both at the both at the same time.

"I know," he said dryly, got up and walked back to the throne without another word. There were open gapes all around and none could be bigger than Røem's. Something awful must've happened to take the fight out of the king! Jareth addressed the entire company, taking his seat as if it were the most casual, natural thing in the world. "I will never be absent like this again. I have made it certain." He turned to his left and saw a little wizened one who would remember and said a nearly-forgotten goblinese verb: to clean up. The creature gasped.

"Guinevere!" it squeaked.

Jareth smiled a dangerous smile. "CLEAN!" he shouted at them. "Your queen is coming! Scrub! Scour! Make look nice! Move!" he clapped his hands at them.

"But mess iz nicey!" one pointed out.

"Nice by my standards, you fool! The whole castle! The whole city! We're going to build two new smelters and get to work in the Valley."

"But I likes messy," another sadly protested.

"Oh, all right, you can have messes in your houses but they need to stay there! Start with the city first. Now go!"

As a unit they ran for the door and began stampeding out of the castle. Some of them were taking the opportunity to shout the word 'clean' at one another - any reason at all to boss each other around was a good reason, he thought tiredly. A scurrying, lizard-like movement caught his eye - Dåshe was trying to get out by literally climbing nimbly over the others in his way.

"Dåshe!"

He perked up at hearing his name shouted by his monarch, somersaulted backwards and landed with a little salute, eying him. Jareth smirked in spite of himself.

"Come here."

The little creature scurried right up to the foot of the throne and stared at him from under his little brown cap. He might've been ten inches tall. Dåshe was definitely the runt of somebody's litter. The reasons he preferred to sit quietly in the corner and doodle were obvious enough and Jareth was content to leave him be no matter what was going on; he did the least harm of all of them. Jareth held up the drawing.

"Did you make these?"

He nodded.

"You did a good job; I could tell it was me at once. What did you use for the colors?"

The little goblin looked like a child who had been caught being naughty as he reached into his tiny coat pocket and pulled out part of a squished fairy. It was still leaking a veritable rainbow of colors.

"Nasty biters hav pretty insides," he said, holding it up further to show him. Jareth was genuinely surprised at the little fellow's inventiveness. No one had ever thought to do that before! If he had been caught doing this in the High City he would have been punished but flower fairies were forbidden in the Labyrinth and the surrounding land for the precise reason that Dåshe had just brought up. Those who came here came at their own peril. Jareth decided that leniency was best - he was still technically within the law.

"Alright, put the rest away before you lose any. Just remember you can't do that anywhere but here."

Dåshe quickly stuffed the remains back in his pocket, relieved that it hadn't been taken away.

"Now let's see those hands. Are they still black?"

Dåshe held them up: the palms were totally coated from ink. Jareth made a sign to be quiet and formed a tiny crystal with his other hand - it dissolved into a little bottle of solvent and he handed it to him.

"Wash it off," he whispered to the little creature with a conspiratory smile, patting him on the head. Dåshe looked up at him with concern and even a bit of disappointment. It was then that Jareth realized they had missed raising his ire. _What bizarre creatures_, he thought as he forced himself to scowl. "Or I'll tip you in the bog! Hurry up!"

Dåshe squealed with delight and streaked off like a flash down the now-empty hallway, calling, "Wait for Dåshe!" in a high, almost childlike tone.

Jareth laughed watching him go but presently he sighed and walked over to one of the small, medieval-style windows in the chamber.

"You know, it's awfully stupid to try to hide from me when I can sense you in the room, Hoggle."

Hoggle had been magicked in with the rest of the creatures who had been in the east quarter of the city; the dwarf had been cowering behind Jareth's throne and had intended to stay there until His Majesty had left the room. No such luck. Jareth turned around just in time to see him get up and shakily walk to the center of the room, eyes downcast to the floor right in front of him. Jareth had gotten his name right. He was in big trouble.

"Y-yer Majesty."

"Ah yes, you remember who your liege lord is now; how convenient," he said amiably, stalking over to him, beginning to circle like a shark. "I had half-expected you to do something like run away. So glad that you didn't. It makes punishing you that much easier since I don't have to hunt you down. Now then, I don't think your accomplices are guilty of much - a yeti beast is a yeti beast and Sir Didymus is all but senile. You, however, have absolutely no excuse whatsoever for your actions. You have committed open treason against your king." He stopped right in front of him. "You know what the penalty for high treason is…" he said in a quiet, dangerous voice. Poor Hoggle had been getting more and more nervous by the second and was even shaking in his boots but at this he fell to his knees and started openly pleading.

"_No!_ No! _Anything_ but _that_! Anything! I'll go away! I'll-"

"Stop sniveling!" Jareth snarled, knowing that this scare was all the punishment the dwarf was ever going to get, thanks to Sarah. She'd kill him if he did anything more. Or worse yet, she wouldn't even _come_. He was well within his rights to do something extreme but he couldn't. His hands were tied. "However," Jareth continued in a caustically ginger tone, "since I cannot have my wife's houseguests reeking like the Bog you are now in my eternal debt. You will be doing community service on garnished wages for the rest of your life, just enough to feed, clothe and house you, is that perfectly clear?"

Hoggle openly gaped. "Y-ya mean ye aren't gonna-"

"Would you prefer to be drowned in the Bog?" was the crisp reply. The dwarf quickly shook his head no, still wide-eyed. "Good. I'm putting you personally in charge of supervising the city cleanup operation."

Hoggle visibly sagged. "…the whole city?" he choked.

"I can always add the Garbage Heap onto your load if you don't feel that you have enough to do."

"No, I's fine!" he quickly countered.

"That's settled then. Your work starts immediately. If I hear so much as one complaint escape your lips you'll be dredging the Bog!"

Hoggle simply stood there in dumb shock. There was no way in the Underground this could possibly be happening but it was.

"What part of 'immediately' failed to penetrate your think skull? Move! There isn't much time!"

Hoggle jumped a little and started shuffling for the door. He couldn't believe he'd gotten off so easy but there was this odd sinking feeling. A morbid curiosity. He had to know, even if it got him punished. He turned around in the doorway and screwed up all his nerve. Jareth had gone back to look out the window. He almost had this weird, uncharacteristically wistful sort of look.

"Yer Majesty?"

"Yes? What is it?" he snapped a bit testily, clearly not pleased at the interruption of his reverie.

"You said we were gonna have us a queen. Who is she?"

Jareth slowly turned enough to look over his shoulder at the dwarf with a growing smile and Hoggle felt himself go cold inside.

"Sarah Williams. Of course." The smile dropped. "It was very nearly my cousin Ariadne," he stated flatly. He watched the dwarf do a full-body shiver at the thought and sighed with a hint of a rueful smirk. "For once we agree," he noted dryly, turning to look back out the window.

"Ya…didn't hurt her?" Hoggle asked cautiously, immediately suspecting foul play or at least blackmail. Surely Sarah wouldn't willingly marry somebody like Jareth! Especially after what he put her through. Jareth turned and began pacing slowly toward him with his hand to his heart.

"Only with the heartache of temporary separation," he announced theatrically, "which I mean to amend as soon as she has her earthly affairs in order. This place must be ready for her arrival."

The dwarf was surprised to say the least as Jareth walked back to the throne and sat down.

"She's comin'…ta stay?"

"Have you not been listening to one word I've been saying?! Yes! She's going to be here as my wife! I couldn't very well stay there! I had to come back. Do you honestly think I wanted to return to this dump after living on Earth? The High Court was going to dismantle the Labyrinth and kill everything inside. My presence alone is preventing your extermination!"

Hoggle all but prostrated himself on the floor and started bowing.

"You're welcome. Now get a move on. Wait - you've dallied long enough that you've earned yourself another job. Go out to the garbage fields and find me one of these," and Jareth tossed him a crystal. The dwarf caught it and inside was a three-dimensional picture of some kind of a boxish object with a shiny glass front and a bunch of buttons and knobs and a tailish-looking cord with a blunt pronged end. "It may not look exactly like this but they all sort of resemble one another. It matters not if the front glass is broken as long as all the wiring on the inside is hooked up and intact. Watch your hide - these things are loaded with iron."

Had Jareth just told him to be careful? Surely he was dreaming now. Hoggle discreetly pinched himself - nope, he was wide awake. And then he remembered how strange he himself had felt meeting Sarah, the way she was nice to him - it had made him want to be nicer himself and not just to her. Was it actually possible that she had gotten under Jareth's skin and changed his fickle, flippant heart? Jareth was turned away again, looking supremely lost. Hoggle hadn't liked that feeling at first, either; it made him feel weak and vulnerable but he finally realized that it actually made him stronger. It was working in him now and he barely noticed that he was walking toward the throne until he was there.

"What now?" the king sighed, not even looking at him. Hoggle patted his monarch on the knee. Jareth turned, surprised.

"It'll be okay. You'll see," he said quietly and turned around and limped out of the room.

After a split second of wonder Jareth winced his eyes closed, resting his face in one hand. His authority was officially a joke. If word of this ever got out to the rest of his subjects all hell would break loose on him. He resolved to be much more careful in the future. And yet…he couldn't shake what Hoggle had just done. It hadn't been done in mockery. It almost warmed him, just exactly as if the dwarf knew just how awkward he felt right now, trying to reign in these new emotions. And then it hit him. Jareth sat back in his throne with the sudden realization: in his own way, Hoggle had loved her, too. Jareth's emotions were getting stranger by the minute.

_Oh, Sarah, what do I __do__?_

* * *

Hoggle had a little smile on his creased, old face as he carefully made his way down the stairs and out of the castle into the main square. Things were going to be different around here. Jareth might be back in all his glory and might but Sarah had him safely wrapped around her little finger!


	23. The Long Goodbye

Chapter 23 - The Long Goodbye

It was daunting. It was exhilarating. It was nerve-wracking. And it was the most secretive thing she had ever done in her life: Sarah was preparing to leave Earth, never to return. It was quite a lot like making the preparations for one's own death in that she had to get all of her property and finances in order. She secretly drew up a will and had it notarized, putting it in a strong box at the bank. Jareth had assured her that she would want for no material thing there, that everything she could ever possibly want would be provided and then some, and had instructed her to only take a few things of sentimental value - he wasn't strong enough to pull through the entire contents of her apartment. Not to mention that it would look highly suspicious. He had even managed to rig up an internet connection there somehow; she could download music and movies and books from her own world. He had simply looked away with a look almost of shame when she pointed to the email account on her own computer. The answer was obvious: as painful as it would be, she couldn't maintain anything that would betray her identity; there was nothing for it.

She quietly donated the vast majority of her clothing and even some of her less valuable belongings to charity, leaving only things that she currently needed to live and other things that her family might want to pick over. It was all just stuff. She considered selling her car but decided against it; such a visible choice would be questioned. Sarah spoke of the covert operation very little with Irina and when she did the other woman made light of it or was excited for her. She offered to put them up in her condo when they came back to visit. Sarah didn't have the heart to tell her.

She kept in fairly frequent contact with Jareth; sometimes she would even find his crystals lying around because he was just dying to show her something. It was frustrating not being able to talk to him but it was reassuring to see him alive and well. They managed to communicate in a sort of pantomime. If she had the heavy end of the bargain emotionally, he had the heavy end physically. In mid-October she got the familiar itch in the back of her mind that meant he was trying to contact her and formed a crystal. He was standing on the high gate of the Goblin City with one foot on a turret, holding a black whip of all things. He turned to her and waved a greeting, smiling, then pointed in front of him - something she needed to see. Very carefully she pivoted the angle so she could look out into the valley of garbage and could scarcely believe her eyes: the entire goblin horde was out there sorting through it! Mountainous piles were being made like a construction site; one was only broken lighting fixtures, another was old clothing and scraps of what might have been clothing at one point in time, and yet another growing pile seemed solely devoted to kitchen sinks and bathroom porcelain. There was a sudden scuffle near a pile that appeared to be children's toys. Looking closer, she gasped: the little thieves had unearthed her old music box from that fake bedroom! It was successively stolen about a dozen times, ludicrously passing from light-fingered hand to light-fingered hand with speed until it finally came back to the one who had originally found it, who cackled and ran away with its treasure. It didn't get far - it was stopped at the butt of Sir Didymus' staff and was forced to hand it over. Off in the distance it looked like they had built a couple of smelters and - yes! - loading the one to the left was Ludo! It was a big job but the beast looked up to it. Fireys were dancing around them, darting in occasionally, making sure the smelters stayed hot enough for the job, yet were aptly wary of the yeti. Rows of big bars of different metals were cooling on the ground back behind them. She felt her gaze pulled back from the scene, back to Jareth. He had turned around so they wouldn't see his face. His expression at this point was always love and tenderness. He put this hand to his heart then reached out to her and she did too. Then he was gone.

All of their communications ended that way. He didn't plead, he didn't try to pressure her, he simply reaffirmed his affection and vanished. At least at first. In another brief sending, she saw all his subjects sitting placidly in the square watching Sesame Street; it was being projected on the castle wall from a crystal perched on top of the fountain. On November 1st she woke up to find a small parcel in a carved wooden box on her bed. Inside was a pair of long knitted emerald green gloves with Celtic knot braiding down the backs - she smiled, remembering how she'd caught him in the act - and a pair of his high-heeled leather boots. At the bottom was a note hastily scrawled on parchment from a quill pen:

_ My Dearest Sarah, _

_ Last night was Samhain if you remember, the time when our dimensions run closest together and I managed to get this through for you. For reasons I do not totally comprehend, it is proving much more difficult to perform these procedures from this side than it was from Earth - perhaps simply having you near me made me stronger. Having said this, I will remind you that you will not be able to bring much with you. When you wish for me to take you, hold your parcel close to your chest with your arms wrapped around it and your head bent over it, as compact as you can manage. We should both practice before we do it. Have to go - there's an unholy racket coming from the hall. I __told__ them the chickens are no longer allowed in the castle! I miss you more with each passing day, my love. Hurry home._

_ Yours Forever, _

_ J._

Sarah hugged the letter to herself for a moment then looked at the bottom missive about the chickens again and had to laugh. His subjects definitely kept him busy. But that last line was sobering. She sighed. As much as she didn't want to admit it, doing this frightened her. It was natural - she was leaving everything she knew, everyone she loved for the love of a man not of her world. She steeled her resolve. She would do it. Not now, but soon.

November slipped away and for the first time in years she made the trek back east for Thanksgiving to be with her family. It was a huge gathering at her grandmother's house in New Jersey with at least thirty odd assorted aunts, uncles and cousins along with her father and stepmother and Toby, who had brought along his fiancée (he announced they were getting married next May.) The feast was epic and raucous and since work had actually been going well Sarah was thankful that she actually had something interesting to talk about. Only once when she was sitting alone much later did Toby notice a look of regret on her face.

"Don't tell me just seeing us all again brings back bad memories, Sarah!"

Upon which comment she laughed off her melancholy and asked him if he'd gotten grilled by Jessica's parents. She couldn't leave now; she had to stay long enough to see her little brother get married himself. But that nagging voice was still in her head. She wouldn't be there when they had children. She wouldn't be there when her parents died. She was essentially cutting her life short to live it elsewhere. Granted that elsewhere was damn exciting and the love of her life was waiting for her there but she was ruefully finding that when it came down to the wire she almost couldn't make herself go through with it. Such an act as was required of her was almost inhuman. That brought up odd thoughts, too, but she tried not to pay attention to them. It was beside the point now.

The next time she communicated with Jareth he seemed to instantly note her change in demeanor but initially said nothing. At last it became so awkward that she wrote down the issue with Toby on a piece of paper and shoved it in front of the crystal. He read it and, while vaguely disappointed that she wanted to put it off for over half-a-year, conceded that it was a reasonable request to stay a little longer. He took up parchment and quill and wrote a response:

"And a Midsummer handfasting for us?"

He showed it to her with a smile and she enthusiastically nodded yes.

He was taking great pride in showing her how clean and tidy the castle had become and, with the occasional goblin-caused fiasco aside, the place was looking more and more inhabitable by the month. Jareth was always in good spirits but Sarah couldn't help but notice that he was getting a bit thinner, a touch gaunt. His skin was paling ever-so-slightly. It was especially worrying because he never gave her a straight answer about it, merely shrugging off the question and showing her something else as if to distract her from it. The Junk Heap had been completely sorted and, with the exception of a little petty pilfering, for the first time in history the Goblin Kingdom was exporting goods on a massive scale. Many pieces had been fixed, refurbished or repurposed. Iron was carefully being extracted from rubbish, melted down, and sold to the Guard of the Federation in the form of long bricks. The place looked like a mountain range now she thought with a touch of irony.

On her own end, production was speeding along, too; the last kinks were being worked out of the model solar sedan and factory production was expected to quickly follow in the new year, with the first ones on display to the public at a car show. It would be another year before they were ready for sale. If only she could be there. She discreetly managed to show him one day when they were testing it on the track again and later he conveyed he was duly impressed, quietly applauding her.

But something was wrong on his end; she could feel it. She wished he would confide in her; deep down she was scared that nothing could be done for the situation. Would she show up and bond with him just in time for a premature death? She laughed at herself for being so morbid but the thought stubbornly remained simmering in the back of her mind.

Winter turned to spring and with it came Toby's wedding. Neither family was terribly religious and the pair had opted for a nice outdoor ceremony in a park. It was emotional and surreal for Sarah - the little brother she had worked so hard to protect was all grown up and getting on with his life. She had the sudden strange thought of him living as a medieval peasant Underground, probably already married with a bunch of kids. Who would've ever dreamed that's what actually happened to them all? She was glad he was still here - somehow she didn't think he was cut out for that kind of life. The after party lasted well into the night and she had managed to shock just about everyone who had ever known her for any length of time by spending a lot of it on the dance floor. The goodbyes were painful - in all probability she wouldn't see any of them ever again. Why couldn't there be another way? Surely she could let them know somehow! She approached Jareth with the problem, written down, and with a heavy heart he had to tell her that she couldn't; there were inter-kingdom laws and part of the Code of the Federation that such a revelation would be a blatant violation of. She wouldn't be allowed to come at all. It was cruel but there was literally nothing he could do about it but apologize profusely. If hundreds of lives weren't at stake he would still be with her on Earth.

With conflicting emotions, she had begun to pack. It felt strange only taking pictures, irreplaceable knick-knacks and mementos. Physical memories. After careful deliberation she chose to wear the white dress that he had purchased for her; it was the only item of clothing she owned that might be of any practical use there. She had second thoughts later and stuffed a pair of jeans and the corset top into her duffle bag at the very end, fighting to get the zipper closed (it was barely possible.) Everything was ready.

The week of the summer solstice was just one elongated panic, with elation and depression taking turns. She almost wished she wasn't solely responsible for getting herself there - the inner division was still there in an unnerving amount. This was worlds worse than bridal jitters. In a few short days she would be leaving Earth. She had Irina over to her apartment on Sunday to see if she had anything left that the woman might want and her nervousness was painfully obvious. When Irina asked how she was doing, she had to sit down at the kitchen table.

"Irina… I can't come back."

She gasped, pulling up a chair herself. "…you can't be serious…"

Sarah sighed, nodding. "I am. I can't even tell anyone - it violates some sort of international laws there. I probably shouldn't even be telling you but you already know everything else…"

"But why cannot you return?" she asked. "He seems to come and go as he pleases," she spat bitterly.

"Normally Jareth can't even come to Earth himself unless he's summoned to do something within his capacity as Goblin King." She gave a humorless little laugh. "Picking up his queen qualifies. His world exists in a completely different dimension. There's something screwy about the time-space flow between here and there. Humans can go there but after being there in normal time the human body can't handle reentry into this world - you literally disintegrate on the spot. People have tried."

"Oh my god," Irina whispered. She thought of asking but from the look in Sarah's eyes as she stared at the kitchen table it was obvious: she was having second thoughts. Any sane person would! Irina moved her chair over to Sarah's and hugged her around the shoulders. Little tears started forming in Sarah's eyes as she fought to keep in control.

"He wants to try for the summer solstice; the borders are thinner then and it won't be as hard to pull me through."

"But that's tomorrow."

Nothing else was said for a long time as the two women sat there holding each other, quietly crying. At length, Sarah got up, drying her eyes, and went to her room. She came back with a pair of knee-length leather boots.

"He said that I wouldn't ever want for clothes there. I want you to have these. To remember…"

"But we are not the same size."

"Just try them on," Sarah said with a little devious smirk.

The boots worked their magic once more and after a few more hours and more tearful goodbyes Irina left wearing them. Sleep was fitful that night.

Sarah banged in sick from work the next day. She kept herself busy cleaning, making what was left of her apartment presentable. Her whole family would be digging through it presently and possibly the police would be there, too. She suddenly regretted telling Irina - she hoped there wouldn't be too much of an investigation into her disappearance but it couldn't be helped. Maybe she should leave a suicide note. No, that would be even more trouble. The day was just dragging. She double-checked that all her bills were paid and started digging through the pantry, throwing out things that had expired.

She was suddenly struck with wanderlust around three in the afternoon and went for a walk, leaving her car behind for a change. It wasn't a particularly bad neighborhood but she rarely had this much time to waste. A few blocks away on Blake Street there was a stretch of little shops, most of which she had never been in before. She perused antiques and crafts, flowers and pastries and on a whim she got her hair trimmed and done up. She treated herself to a light dinner at Piscos Brazilian restaurant and sat in one of the booths in the greenhouse. She had been trying to ignore it but there had been this aching nostalgia all afternoon. So much of what she had come to associate with life simply did not exist where she was going. Not even something as basic as a telephone. Walking back after dinner she had managed to reason that it was all just stuff but it would still be a monumental adjustment.

It was strange knowing that she was entering this building for the last time. She noted everything as she climbed the stairs; the bad lighting, the faded gray carpet trampled by hundreds of tenants over the years, the wooden banister polished from use. She took one last look and went inside. They had agreed on midnight - she still had five hours. 'You have thirteen hours' echoed in her memory. After changing into the white dress and getting the duffle bag out she paced, not knowing what to do with herself. She turned on the T.V. She turned off the T.V. She thumbed through a few books at random, unable to concentrate on any of them. Her old copy of The Labyrinth was safely in her duffle bag. She opened the blinds and watched the sunset. All the dishes were clean and put away. At length she checked her email one last time. Suddenly it dawned on her to check the back-history to see what Jareth had been up to here - only to remember that at her behest he had erased it all. She checked the contents of her bag again to make sure she had everything she wanted even though she'd gone through the procedure at least a dozen times.

The sky went from pink and purple to that odd shade of green and finally blue shades as the sun went down. She made sure all the blinds were closed and turned on one light in the living room. She wasted time in the bathroom and wasted a little more playing with makeup. She thought of calling her mother then decided against it; Linda had always understood her too well to let a vague problem slide like it was nothing. Although, in all probability, she just wouldn't have picked up. Sarah had cut off contact with her birth mother years ago for a reason. The woman was just too self-absorbed to truly care about anybody else. But Sarah couldn't help wanting…no. She put down the phone.

How could time possibly move this slow?! Two hours left. The coffee table went into the hall. She peeked at the view from her bedroom window - the city sprawled out with golden lights twinkling in the dark, only a few stars visible. Crescent moon, small and cold. Her nerves weren't getting any better and on a whim she went to the kitchen, got out the tequila bottle and laughed at how little was in it. She finished the last shot-and-a-half and threw it in the recycle. Suddenly remembering the trash, it was collected and taken downstairs. Badly needed pit stop. Could time possibly go any slower?!

Half an hour. Her heart was racing in spite of the alcohol and so were her thoughts as she paced in the living room. Had she forgotten to do anything? All the burners and the oven were off. So was the computer. Phone safely off the hook. Journals packed. She suddenly stopped walking - this was insane! How could she possibly go through with this?! A rather frightening thought suddenly dawned on her: in order for the transfer to work, she had to want to go. Not just sort of; she had to be sure. And she wasn't. Sarah felt wretched as she finally sat down on the floor next to her bag for the final minutes. All too soon she felt Jareth's presence and it weighed on her like the guilt she was feeling. She shakily got up - time was of the essence now - and picked up the duffle bag…and gently dropped it back to the floor numbly as she was wracked by sobs, openly crying, covering her mouth with her hands.

Jareth watched her reaction, distressed, dumbfounded, panicked. They had been practicing this for months! He was in his bedroom with everything ready for the transportation spell - the staff, all his reserves, everything - and she was breaking down and there was nothing he could do about it. She composed herself to form a crystal and despair was clear in his face.

"I'm so sorry," she choked out. "I just can't do it! I can't! Please forgive me, my love, I'm so sorry…" She closed her eyes and wept.

Jareth inwardly collapsed like a house of cards. So close! He couldn't go to her, couldn't comfort her, couldn't help her. He was doomed. How stupid was he, how blind! She had had her misgivings about this from the very beginning. He had really believed that was going to change?! All too late he realized that her species was going to win out over her heart. She couldn't change who she was, what she was. Earth and her life there was too much a part of her. He involuntarily felt cold inside in spite of the fact that he knew it wasn't her fault - it was his, and he would pay for it dearly. He gently nudged her so she would look at the crystal again but she wouldn't. Couldn't was more like it. Couldn't face the fiancée she was jilting. She popped it instead, knowing he could still see her. His sidhe instinct was prompting him now and, compromising the intent, he gave in. He brought the crystal up to his third eye and concentrated.

"Come away, my love. Come to me, Sarah. Come."

He lowered it to his lips and gave it a passionate kiss, knowing full well that she was feeling his siren call in her blood, as surely as his heart was rending for her. Sarah felt the dark magic caress her, compelling her from within with almost irresistible seductive force, her heart ready to burst with his love for her. She dropped to her knees, hands clasped in petition.

"Yes, I will come to you one day, I swear it! How could I possibly forget you? I love you," she gasped, feeling his phantom kiss fresh on her lips.

Someday. Not quite the reaction he had been hoping for but he suddenly realized it would do. He could wait. He would wait as long as he had to. He would watch over her life like an angel. They could still talk through the crystals and share their lives. And when the time was right he wouldn't give her time to think twice again. She would be in his arms in the blink of an eye.

* * *

Irina just about fainted from shock when Sarah called her on the phone the next day, sounding bleary and spent. They talked in person and it was almost as if Sarah had become a different person: sober, determined, resigned. She didn't have the willpower to allow him to cross her over voluntarily. Period. She talked about her family and the car but very little about Jareth in comparison and when it was brought up she just looked wistful for a moment then changed the subject. Irina had a bad feeling that the relationship had just tanked on a totally impossible situation. Talk about long-distance. Sarah took the rest of the week off to recover and returned to work the following Monday.

The car had turned out beautifully and by fall production was underway. Since she was part of the design team Sarah was able to buy one discounted, trading in her old compact sedan for a car whose battery had come from what looked like a UFO. In spite of the fact that it had to have a certain amount of time to power up, the thing ran like a dream. She made a point of keeping in better contact with her family and even her birth mother was on the list. Sarah visited her in the fall in New York City and while her mom hadn't changed at all, she felt that they both had something in common now: they had both left behind men that loved them to further their lives. Of course she couldn't tell her that in so many words but she had a feeling her mother knew and they actually had a halfway decent visit for a change.

In spite of the fact that she felt Jareth watching her at times she didn't have the nerve to look in on him in return, partly in fear that he would make her want to just up and leave on the spur of the moment. It was frustrating how much that complicated things but she supposed he couldn't help it anymore than she could help what came naturally to her. As she suspected, she was switched to a new assignment that she found rather boring in comparison but at least it was work that kept her mentally occupied most of the time. She still frequented the Gem, but now in the company of Irina - they made a habit of girls' night out on the town every other Friday. All was running almost as it always had up until after the company Christmas party.

A bunch of them had pitched in and rented a hall at the old Holland House hotel in downtown Golden for the bash and in spite of the fact that the room was full of research scientists, engineers, and many other assorted people who stereotypically don't dance or party well, the night had been and unmitigated success with a white elephant gift exchange and awards for the outstanding employees of the year, of which Sarah was one. She made sure that the couple of drinks that she had were early on enough in the evening that she was fit to drive home at the end of the night.

It had snowed a couple of feet the day before but the roads were sufficiently plowed and she was making her way out of town via Jackson St., being one of the only ways out of town that didn't involve taking the highway - that was still pretty icy. Jackson was a one-way street, as was Ford St. into Golden. It had recently been reduced from three lanes to two to accommodate a generous sidewalk and biking lane, which condensed traffic even at light times. The one odd thing, however, was the signage - or rather, the lack of it, warning drivers that this actually was a one-way street. More signs had been posted in recent years but not all were sufficiently obvious to someone turning onto the street and a few were in spots that were unlit at night. The sight of someone going the wrong way down Jackson, either by mistake or due to unfamiliarity with the town, was almost a joke in Golden; a lot of people had seen it at least once in their lives and there were so few accidents of any kind resulting from it that the issue was really only taken seriously by the law.

Sarah was about to pass the grocery store when she saw the oncoming car. She couldn't slam on her breaks - there was someone behind her. Changing lanes wasn't an option - someone else was right beside her, too, and there was nowhere to turn off, she was already past the turn for the store and the approaching car was too close. Her heart was hammering as time slowed down to a crawl - she realized what was about to happen. The headlights of the new sedan were a blinding halogen; she couldn't even see the driver. All her thoughts fled except one.

"JARETH!"

* * *

"Good morning and thank you for watching Channel 7. A devastating 60 mph head-on car collision happened early this morning in Golden with one confirmed fatality. A man driving a rental car the wrong way down Jackson St. was hit and killed by another oncoming vehicle. As this happened, yet another car piled into the wreck from behind but the woman survived; she is in critical condition and was airlifted to St. Anthony's Hospital. To make this tragedy even worse, the third driver, whose car was totaled, has not been located at all. There are no human remains inside the middle sedan, however, which has emergency rescue crew workers stumped because the driver had no time to exit the moving vehicle and the woman who rear-ended her saw her clearly only a second before the crash, still behind the wheel. The sedan is registered to a Ms. Sarah Williams of Denver. One intriguing hypothesis of what happened has been posed by the only eyewitness. A man, who has asked to remain anonymous, saw the crash as he was headed back to his car from the grocery store and claims that he saw a bright white light inside the middle vehicle a split-second before the crash took place. This sighting has been verified by two security cameras from the store's parking lot and what's even stranger, as you can see, is that when the film is slowed down, one can almost make out the blur of what might be a blonde person wearing white suddenly appearing in the cabin just a fraction of a second before the crash. Is this a Christmas miracle? We will keep you updated as we receive information; please stay tuned."


	24. Aftermath

Chapter 24 - Aftermath

Sarah slowly regained consciousness in a strange lavish bed to the sound of a woman's voice.

"Focus on me, that's right, easy now… There she is."

The woman in question was sitting on the edge of the bed near the pillow with her right hand cradling Sarah's head. She was unquestionably sidhe, with her skin almost as pale as china and the straight copper-colored streak that ran clean across both of her eyes, which were a piercing ice-blue. Her hair was an unnaturally fiery red and was pulled back somehow; she couldn't quite see from the angle. The woman had been regarding her with a scientifically calculating gaze but upon seeing Sarah's confusion upon waking it softened into a light, teasing smirk.

"Welcome back," she said in a flat, sarcastic tone, removing her hand and moving to tend something that was burning in a small crucible on the bedside table. Whatever it was made a sharp, herby smell. Sarah quickly took in her surroundings and the woman's words sank in at the sight of bare, gray masonry and a small, glassless medieval-style arch window. She was most certainly in the Underground somewhere, but where was Jareth? She started to sit up and suddenly noticed that she was physically exhausted. The strange woman turned back to her and forced her to lie back down.

"All in good time, child, but you need to lie still and rest for the moment until I am quite certain that there are no after-effects from the shock of your crossing. Here, drink this, it will help steady your nerves," she handed her an earthenware cup full of steaming liquid. Having no choice but to comply, Sarah took a sip and nearly spat it out - it tasted wretched. The woman looked apologetically surprised at her reaction and immediately took it from her, got up and walked to a table at the other side of the room.

"It is my error that the flavor it pungent instead of sweet. I have treated very few of your kind. I forgot," she said, crushing a couple of fresh leaves of something into the cup from a vast array of plants and containers on the table. With her back mostly turned, Sarah could finally see that her bright hair fell past her waist in a long, thick braid. No, not a braid, a Celtic plait! She wore a floor-length light-blue gown with tightly-tailored sleeves that ended just above the hand in a point. She looked like she was only in her late twenties but Sarah knew that appearances were not to be trusted here. But there was something hauntingly familiar about this woman as she stirred the mixture in the cup and brought it back over to the bed with the slightest of smiles in her eyes. And then it dawned on her.

"Are you Morgan Ravensong?"

The woman looked slightly offended but she gave her a frowning smirk as she daintily sat back down on the bed.

"That's Lady Morgan Ravensong to you, child. I know that my brother has the bad habit of dropping protocol at the drop of a hat but you must learn it if you're going to live here."

"Sorry, I didn't know."

"I know," she said, handing the cup back with the reprimand. "This should be more palatable."

Sarah was a bit more tentative this time, taking just a tiny sip - only to find herself draining it thirstily; it tasted sweet and savory now and her body seemed to crave it. A smugly satisfied expression overtook Morgan, almost as if she were mocking the fact that she knew what made her human patient tick.

"Care for another?"

"Is it alright?"

Morgan surrendered a smile. "If you take it a bit more slowly." She took the cup from her hands and filled it with hot water from a small kettle on a stand over a candle, crushing and mixing the appropriate herbs. "You're lucky to be alive, you know. Your clothing was in shreds."

Sarah gasped. "What's happened?! Is Jareth okay?!"

Morgan actually laughed a genuine laugh, shaking her head.

"Such an affectionate little creature. It's amazing he ever turned your head. Well, perhaps your heart to be a bit more accurate. At any rate, he's fine," she said, coming back with the refilled mug, sitting. "What happened is that the rogue Lord Ravensong simply behaved as himself - impetuous and far too excitable. Thought he'd run off and be the hero without thinking the whole plan through and forgot to slow down the time-space continuum to bring you through he was so panicked," she said, looking as if she felt embarrassed for him. "You would've had time to leisurely scrawl 'farewell, cruel world' on the interior glass of the vehicle with any medium available."

Sarah was thunderstruck. He could've…that meant that…

"Drink!" Morgan commanded and Sarah hastily complied, the sudden meaning of the situation becoming all too clear: this outcome had, in all likelihood, been completely avoidable. He could've just gotten her out of the car and onto the sidewalk. She could still be on earth.

_Earth.__ My god, it's really __gone__._ For as upset as she should've been feeling, she only felt a strange calm, no doubt the work of the drug she was so quickly self-administering. She forced herself to stop. She felt detached, numb. Morgan sighed, watching the information sink in. On intuit she touched her hand.

"It is true that we can do many things. We change our own bodies. We make the great leap within the worlds and between them, pressing time and space into our service. But we are still a part of them; we cannot stop the flow, nor turn it back on itself as some may believe. I am truly sorry for you loss, child, but done is done here. You cannot go back."

Sarah nodded, blinking back a tear.

"Please call me Sarah."

"…Sarah…" she tried the name out, feeling the odd, simple shape of it on her tongue. She had been used to referring to her as 'her' or 'the girl' when talking about the matter most of the time. Not a bad name for a human she supposed. And smiled a wistful small smile. "Did you have a title back there I wonder?"

"Ms. Williams," Sarah rolled her eyes. "Not that it matters anymore."

There was something strange starting to work in Morgan's unpracticed heart, something that said that she and this human female were not as different as she would've liked to believe. There had been a time when she had been a princess. She forcibly shoved the thought to the back of her mind and extinguished the herbs in the crucible by stamping them out with a pestle. Sarah silently watched her quick, studious movements. Morgan and Jareth were so alike in certain ways it was uncanny. Maybe it was just because they were trained and brought up in the same manner, she reflected. Morgan felt her curious eyes and smirked.

"So the both of us aren't awake all night," she said, finishing and turning her attentions back to her patient. "Now then, it's past time I assessed your physical state again. I understand this is going to feel a bit strange but to try to relax; I shan't hurt you," she said, stroking Sarah's hair for a moment in almost a maternal fashion. And with that she dove inside her! Sarah gasped at the sudden sensation of another consciousness and the power that went with it. No, Morgan was still sitting on the side of the bed, her hand was hovering over Sarah's face, slowly moving down the length of her body. But her eyes were vacant. She was scanning Sarah's organs from the inside! She could feel her moving down with the hand, in her chest, her stomach, her nether-regions. Her fingers and toes tingled with a near-burning sensation for a moment and then it was over. Sarah did a full body shiver as she felt Morgan leave her. The sidhe woman's eyes were intelligent and reassuring once more. "Easy now. The worst is over. Here." She gently pressed her hand to the Solar Plexus in Sarah's abdomen and gave her a light burst of energy, just enough to solidify and ground her sense of self again. Sarah sighed in profound relief, suddenly comfortably warm. Cozy was the word. Cozy and safe. It was so delicious she nearly fell asleep but she felt her hand receive a quick squeeze and was at attention again. Now that her imminent duties were out of the way, Morgan's demeanor had changed slightly more into a feline, gossipy expression.

"My brother is pacing like a caged animal up in his study but I've a mind to let him stew a bit longer; he wasn't exactly courteous in bringing me here, either. He transported me here without warning, roughly told me what happened, shoved me in here, told me to do my best and locked the door."

Sarah gasped, taken aback. "I'm sorry if-"

"Hush. You are not responsible for his personal conduct," she waived her off. "In the meantime I am willing to answer some questions you may have. Anything that can be answered succinctly and not requiring lengthy explanation - I'm not quite that sadistic."

Sarah swallowed, trying to line up her thoughts.

"…well, first off, how should I address you?"

Morgan smiled at her wise choice. "Either Lady Ravensong or Your Grace will suffice for the moment. I have no doubt that if Jareth has his way we will all be on a first-name basis before the month is out," she rolled her eyes. Her expression suddenly turned very serious. "I know you were his paramour upon Earth and you vowed to follow him beyond your world, but now that you have come here do you have any reservations or doubts? Any fear at all for you future? I know it is cruel to ask this but he wants to bond you to himself the very moment I leave this room. He will give you no time at all to think let alone change your mind."

Sarah wasn't sure what this woman was playing at; it didn't totally wash as being concern for her. Something in the delivery was off. She cocked her head suspiciously.

"You don't like me because I'm human."

Morgan was surprised that she had perceived the true issue so clearly, then remembered that she had been living with a sidhe for the better part of seven months. She'd had time to learn to see through certain cloaking mannerisms. Sarah smirked grimly at being proven correct. Her companion began again a bit more carefully.

"I hold not your species against you; there's nothing you can do to change it. But it _is_ true that my nerves would rest easier if you were another sidhe. He means to change you into a creature that is inbetween the two, dependent upon him alone for survival. Has he spoken to you of this?"

"He did mention the process," Sarah nodded.

"You would be adding nearly twenty lifetimes to your burden with your death intertwined with his own. Are you really ready to take this upon yourself? Once decided, there will be no turning back."

"I'm already here. I love him. You talk like I have a choice."

"You still do. Of course, he won't mention it," Morgan said quietly, glancing out the window. "I know we roughly resemble your own kind but we are far removed from humanity. We do not think like you do. We cannot feel as you feel." She closed her eyes. "He cares for you very deeply; I've never seen him care so much for anyone or anything in my entire life." She opened her eyes and looked hardly into Sarah's. "But it is not human love. It is a consuming thing, an all-enveloping need to be made permanently one with another being in heart, mind, and soul, to care for them at any cost as an extension of the self. He wants so badly for this to work that he is completely ignoring reality. You could be lost to him. I ask you, Sarah Williams, are you truly ready to choose this fate?"

Sarah's heart immediately went out to him. He had been trying so hard, bending over backwards to make her comfortable with him. He did his best human impersonations around her, everything from trying to show more emotion and refraining from teleporting in her presence to having a body scent. Morgan had tactfully eschewed another subject completely: the strain that such a union would present to Jareth. For a moment Sarah faltered. The thought had never crossed her mind. He had always come across as so strong and sure of what he was doing that she had never questioned it. The memory of him half-dead on the floor flashed through her mind. Appearances could be deceiving. No doubt Morgan was wondering how long he would be willing to keep playing along, if he would tire of it.

"Don't think me cold, Sarah," Morgan suddenly spoke and Sarah was instantly reminded that she could read her mind, too! "It's only that interspecies relationships rarely work."

Sarah took a deep breath. "I suppose as a matter of form I should ask you what is this 'out' that you keep referring to."

Morgan smiled predatorily. "Smart girl. Always know your options. Well, it's fairly simple: if you change your mind before the moment of bonding - I care not what's going on at the time, I've seen my brother naked before," she added conspiratorially, making Sarah flush, "call upon _me_ by my full name and wish yourself into my care. I will collect you and take you away to the human colony and we can gradually siphon the power off of you there. It is just beyond his jurisdiction; he can't legally follow you there and after I talk to the queen of that country he wouldn't be able to touch you at all. You would be completely safe, free to live out the remainder of your life among your own kind. I already know they would be overjoyed to have you; there has always been a disproportionately large number of males. Another female still within her childbearing years would be most welcome. It is a self-sufficient community; they work the land for food and ply any number of trades necessary for a good existence. It is always temperate here - you need not worry of freezing or starving. Illness is almost unheard of there. You would be free to live and love and do as you pleased with your life. There is a price, of course…for my services," and here Sarah noted that Morgan had glanced down at her arm and was lightly tracing the blue veins visible in her wrist. She gasped in shock and fear and thrust it under the covers, suddenly remembering what Jareth had said about the women here. Morgan genuinely laughed at her reaction. "I was wondering when you'd think of that! And that brings up the final issue," she sighed, almost looking sympathetic. "He shows the signs."

Sarah closed her eyes, shaking her head on the verge of tears. "No…"

"It is his nature, child," Morgan said gently. "Would you deny a carnivorous animal the very meat it needs to survive? He needs this to remain healthy and strong, and especially after what he's just been through I am amazed that the onset wasn't immediate. He has been trying to stave it off for you; a bond made in his present condition would be much less volatile even if he began feeding afterwards. But he can't put it off much longer. We restrain them the first few times before they learn how to control the impulse so they don't accidentally kill the donor. No doubt he will ask you to be one of his. If you refuse, still claiming that you love him, it will be a grave insult indeed, well-nigh unforgivable. He tells me that you are strong and brave. Are you this brave, Sarah?"

Sarah thought about how he had looked the last time she had seen him. He hadn't looked quite well in spite of his demeanor. Holding out indeed. The thought of him being actively vampyric almost made her want to wretch for a moment… but the moment passed. She remembered him delicately suckling her finger in her home and healing her afterwards. He had almost made it like a kind of love-making. It didn't have to be an ordeal. Her heart was bursting at the thought that he was only a few rooms away. She knew what her answer would be.

"Yes," she said quietly. And slowly smiled. Morgan sighed with a resigned half-smirk.

"So be it. Just remember it isn't too late until you see those gold sparks fly," she haughtily teased. "I'll just fetch him, then." Without any warning she covered Sarah's ears with her hands and screamed his name so loud that the tables shook and the room was still ringing when she removed them! "He'll be down presently," she announced cheerily, getting up. Within the next second Jareth burst into the room looking a wreck and beside himself with worry.

"What is it?! What happened?!"

"Everything's fine!" she shouted back at him, mimicking his intensity, her blue eyes blazing with merriment. His eyes narrowed.

"You didn't…"

Morgan turned conspiratorially to Sarah.

"The old boy's lost his tongue; I'd better get out of here before he remembers he has teeth!" she laughed. "Remember my offer, dear. Got to fly!" And with that she changed into a bright little cardinal and zipped out the window singing, just short of Jareth's lunging grasp. He sighed, catching his breath.

"Sometimes I think she's more trouble than she's worth," he muttered to the window but presently he turned to Sarah with tenderness and sat down at her side, taking her hands and fervently kissing them. The door quietly swung shut of its own accord. Looking up at him, she noticed how gaunt he was, nearly all of the little coloring that he had was drained from his face. And to think that he was like this because of her… "I'm terribly sorry, my love; I didn't mean for it to happen this way," he shook his head sadly. "You called out to me and I just saw you in danger and I…I'm so sorry," his voice finally broke on him as he buried his face in her chest, silently loosing tears. Sarah exhaled and simply held him close for a minute, treasuring the feel of him against her once more, running her fingers through his crazy silken mane.

"I forgive you," she whispered. He looked down at her for a moment almost in disbelief and suddenly shot forward, kissing her with unbridled passion, all the fear of watching and waiting stripped away in a moment, leaving only his longing and she was instantly caught up in his hunger; they couldn't seem to be close enough. Tears mingled freely with those kisses, all the pain behind them now, suddenly released amidst the firestorm. At last Jareth broke away. Gold sparkles hung thick in the air.

"Do you still desire to marry me?" he asked. Sarah blinked.

"I thought that was a given at this point!"

"I ask in earnest," he said, looking seriously but tenderly into her eyes. "Be my wife."

"That wasn't much of a question," she teased. He rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, staring at the ceiling.

"Will you please be-"

"**YES****!**" she laughed. And suddenly pulled him to her by the front of his shirt. "But only because you said please," she purred daringly. He smiled a knowing, predatory smile before closing back in on her mouth, crawling up on the bed, gradually lowering himself onto her. He still felt too far away with just the covers and their clothing separating them. They were holding each other tightly now and Sarah noticed with a thrill of excitement that he was no longer holding back. Even the dream he had given her had not felt like this; his intention had been there but his will and energy had not and she finally understood why he had been so careful with her. Even if she had hated him outright she would've been completely, totally, gloriously helpless against this masterful assault of her senses and would've surrendered herself at the snap of his fingers had he desired it. He had wanted to be sure of her true feelings. She had never felt anything so delicious in her entire life and they weren't even joined. He came up for air momentarily and she suddenly saw that his power had unified behind him almost in the shape of two gold wings that flickered and flowed like aurora borealis. They curled around the both of them, stopping only an inch short of her skin, obscuring her vision of the room. He was poised and ready. There was no turning back she thought joyfully without a moment's hesitation or regret. This was where she belonged, here in the arms of her love. He reached up to caress her face for a moment then leaned back in, teasing the sweet spot behind her ear with his lips as he spoke.

"Then let's stop that infernal body clock of yours right now," he ground out. A split-second later both their clothes vanished and he was underneath the blankets with her. The rest was a blur of mind-blowing pleasure and intense golden light.


	25. One of Us

Chapter 25 - One of Us

Sarah awoke slowly the next morning as if from a dream. She felt… older somehow, more composed, more centered, more… alive. She practically glowed with life, with vitality. She was still herself. It was just …different, she couldn't quite find the proper words to describe the thing. She looked to her left. Jareth was still asleep and she was wrapped in his strong, lithe arms. She loved how he looked when he slept. No one would ever guess how unruly and passionately emotional this beautiful creature was when he was awake from seeing him asleep. She had no idea what he dreamed of…or if he dreamed at all; it suddenly occurred to her that she had never thought to ask! But whatever was going on in his head, there was a gentle smile gracing his mouth. She couldn't bring herself to wake him; he just looked too happy like that. She simply enjoyed his somnolent embrace for a few more minutes before she finally decided to get up. They were in the same room as the night before. Very carefully she began to ease out from under his arms…only to find herself being held lock-tight. Surprised, she looked over her shoulder. He was grinning with his eyes still closed.

"And where do you think you are going?" he asked playfully.

"The bathroom. There is one, right?"

He reluctantly sat up with a sigh, not letting go of her to her amusement. In half a second they were clothed once more; she was wearing the cotton nightgown from the previous evening. Swinging her around the side of the bed easily, he scooped her up under her arms in a bear hug and got up, walking out of the room with her and down the hall as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I have legs; I can follow you, you know. You don't have to keep-"

He silenced her with a kiss, making her melt in his arms.

"You also have bare feet. These stone floors are cold in the morning. Almost there."

He mounted a narrow, circular stairway that screwed upwards a flight and came to a door which opened automatically to allow them entrance. Sarah was seeing everywhere they were going in reverse because she was facing the wrong way but from the dark and gaudy decor inside this room it was obviously his private suite. Their private suite, she thought with a happy little thrill, hugging him. He finally set her on her feet on a thick, black rug just past the huge mahogany and crimson bed. She turned around and was surprised to find a very understated, plain, hollow wooden door that could've been right out of her apartment!

"Just through there," he pointed with a little smile, crossing his fingers behind his back. _Please let her like it, Please let her like it! _

Sarah opened the door… and stepped into a room so opulent it should've been in a five-star spa! If the room without was all dark, this room was all light: four gold-veined quartz columns stood in the corners and white marble floor gleamed with light from a large, clear skylight above that took up over half the ceiling. Unlike the stone floor just outside, this was actually a little warm to the touch. There were climbing orchids and vines supported by white trellis along the walls. Unlit bronze sconces were stationed at intervals along the periphery of the room. A sizable gilded vanity stood to the right against the wall, replete with a scrolled stool and already completely stocked with lots of jewelry and what she took to be a little bit of makeup and perfume; it all looked very old-world. The towel and robe stand was to the left. Everything was pure white.

The room seemed to be separated into two areas by a large floor-to-ceiling white damask curtain. Amazed, she walked farther into the room and drew it aside. It hid a glass sink with a mirror cabinet which, upon inspection, was also stocked; both pieces were shaped like halves of the same clamshell. To the right corner there was a bathtub big enough to be a jacuzzi and beside it a separate glass room with what appeared to be a shower of sorts - the copper pipes were obviously but neatly welded and holes of various sizes were hand-drilled into the 'head.' There was another door off to the left. She opened it and found an old-looking but clean porcelain loo, with the tank on top and a pull cord. She noted wryly that the room had no exterior light; rather, a single crystal was perched on another sconce, giving off enough light to act as a light bulb. And, thank God, there was toilet paper. She did her business and went to investigate the bathtub. In spite of its ostentatiousness it looked regular enough functionally-speaking. Standing on the rim were a few sand-glass bottles with rough-pressed parchment labels, written on with quill pen. One said simply _Hair Soap_. The others only had scents: _Rose, Lavender, Garden Herb, _and _Spiced Musk. _Given the pristine perfection of everything else in the room, she suddenly realized that none of these things were necessities for a sidhe, especially the soap - that was a human need. All of these supplies were from the human colony! He had gotten all of this for _her. _She took out the glass stoppers and sniffed each. Choosing the musk to try first, she turned on the water and ran a little in; it foamed up reassuringly. She plugged the tub and turned on the water full-power until it was a veritable waterfall, pouring in a bit more. And had a fantastic idea, slowly smiling.

_Bet he's never done it like __this__…_

She went back to the bedroom where Jareth was sitting on the bed, watching for the door to open. Upon seeing her he got up and walked over.

"Well? Will it do? Did I forget anything?"

Her reply was a long kiss as she dragged him back in with her and locked the door.

* * *

A couple well-sated and very clean hours later, they went down to the kitchen and after they ate brunch he magically ordered in a tailor from the High City to come in first thing and make Sarah a gown for the occasion of her coronation. In under half a breath the man was there and Jareth explained that he wanted a formal dress made for Sarah on the spot with soft shoes to match. She couldn't believe he was giving out orders like this but the way the tailor reacted it seemed like this was standard protocol. No doubt the sidhe quickly realized that she was human because upon coming closer to measure her he seemed to do a double-take, staring her up and down, and was a bit apprehensive about the work until the Goblin King doubled the price for his labor, at which point the man had no further objections. He popped in and out of the room numerous times gathering materials but soon he had figured out the best color for her and in under fifteen minutes she was draped, fitted and holding the completed garments in her arms! The dress was splendid with long tapered sleeves and a low v-ed waist with gilded trimmings all over, lavish enough for a queen and matching the hue of her green eyes perfectly. Two minutes later, after Jareth inspected them carefully to ensure there were absolutely no flaws, the tailor was paid a purse of gold and was on his way. Jareth apologized about the thin temporary shoes, explaining that the cobbler wasn't anywhere near as quick because shoes were much more permanent than the rest of the clothing people wore there. Her own clothing had apparently not survived the journey as successfully as she had.

Later that day after she'd been shown the rest of the castle, the order was sent out from the Goblin King that all of his subjects were to gather in the city square outside the palace gates for the coronation of their queen. Sarah had only seen such a motley throng once before and she had had to stifle the smallest bit of apprehension at seeing the massed goblin horde once again but she reminded herself that she was at the advantage this time. Jareth had warned her before they stepped out onto the small balcony that she had developed into something of a folk hero for a good number of them for successfully leading a riot against their own monarch (anarchy was always held in high esteem) but among others she was feared even more than the Goblin King himself. It was this image that he wanted her to project. Naturally, she would have none of it.

"But, darling, do you honestly want them to run all over you? They will if you give them so much as a single hint of weakness," he had said to her earlier that morning.

"I'm not going to pretend to be a tyrant! I'll be a disciplinarian but I don't want people to actually be afraid of me. I want them to obey me because they like me."

He had sighed and pleaded with her and tried to argue his point but all to no avail. At last he resigned himself to the fact that she would simply have to learn the hard way and all had been pleasantness and excitement from that moment on to now. All eyes were fixed expectantly upward towards them as he addressed the crowd from his balcony. Her breath almost caught as she glanced at him in passing with a touch of pride. He really looked the part.

"My loyal subjects…and all the _other_ ruffians living within my walls," his gaze flickered out accusingly, "today I present you with your queen." And at this he took off his amulet and cupped it in both hands. It separated into two, the second only a bit smaller and gold-on-silver instead of silver-on-gold, and held them both high for the crowd to see. He made her stand in front of him and made a show of placing the new amulet around her neck before returning his own to its rightful place and raising her right hand clasped in his left. "Long live Queen Sarah!" he loudly pronounced and the crowd took up the chant for a while but they soon broke down into their regular disorder and an impromptu keg party commenced with streamers flying. She watched them, amused, as Jareth dragged a hand across his eyes. No one was paying either of them the slightest bit of attention now. "That's as good as it's going to get, love," he sighed. "You had their full attention for all of three minutes; that has to be a record."

"Not if I can help it," Sarah muttered under her breath with a growing smile and before he could stop her she had darted out of the room like a flash, faster than she ever thought she could run, down two flights of stairs and out the front gates of the castle… All activity stopped instantly as everyone gaped at her. A few attempted to bow or get on their knees. Jareth held his breath as she calmly descended the stairs with a regal grace worthy of her new title. "Hello," she addressed them gently. Jareth was flabbergasted to see the crowd part for her to let her walk among them. They wouldn't even do that for him! "I have gotten to know a few of you but I am looking forward to meeting you all. I hope I can earn your respect and trust by proving myself trustworthy and respectful. As long as everyone upholds the rules around here, we'll get along just fine."

A shocked gasp went through the throng at the last comment and it took her a bit by surprise. She looked up at the balcony for Jareth but he had vanished - her eyes settled on him lounging in the doorframe at the top of the stairs.

"They've never been too keen on that," he said offhandedly. "Petty disobedience is the official sport of the realm. You sound like a worse tyrant than me," he smiled teasingly.

"But I thought you said-"

"Forget what I said!" he whisper-shouted through his teeth. "It's all about show!"

_Oh_… She was quickly saved from her awkward situation by a bustle toward the edge of the crowd and presently Sir Didymus forced his way through to her.

"My lady Sarah! Can it truly be thee?"

"Sir Didymus! It's so good to see you again! How have you been?"

"Quite well, my lady…oh forgive me - your Majesty," he corrected himself promptly with a twinkle in his good eye, dropping to one knee to kiss the back of her hand. And stayed there. With a jolt, Sarah suddenly realized what was wrong.

"You may rise, Sir Knight." He did instantly with a little smile. She was still learning. "Where are the others?"

His voice lowered a bit, concernedly glancing behind her at the king, who was still quietly watching the proceedings like a bird of prey.

"What? You mean…here? Now?"

"What better time than my own coronation party?" she laughed, deliberately ignoring the general tension in the air. This would never do. Upon seeing that there was no imminent threat, the throng started to slowly pass around the tankards again and talk amongst themselves.

"I's here, missy." Hoggle, who had been hiding behind the Prime Minister trying to be inconspicuous, now stepped forward, keeping an eye on Jareth and not daring to smile until Sarah embraced him. "Wouldn't be here if it weren't fer you," he whispered gratefully in her ear, pulling away.

"Glad you're okay. Now where's…?"

A very large finger slowly tapped her shoulder twice and she whipped around and hugged the enormous ginger beast it belonged to. Didymus beamed.

"I have been teaching my brother the art of stealth. None of these ruffians has been able to catch him since we saw you last!"

Ludo pulled back to look at her, uncertainty slowly forming in his large, brown eyes. "Sarah…queen. Queen…friend?"

"Don't worry, I'll always be your friend, Ludo," she smiled, standing on tiptoe to shoof his shaggy head and scratch behind his ears. It was then that she heard a shout in a distinct Brooklyn accent.

"Hey, Queenie-lady! You still owe us a game!"

"Ye-ah, dat right!"

"Come _on_, y'all!"

Sarah felt a prickle of fear for a moment, turning to see a half-dozen Fireys cavorting towards her with their wild, gaping coyote smiles, chasing each other over the horde to get down front. One of them took off his own head and started to dribble it like a basketball. In a moment of sheer brilliance the answer came to her. _That's __it__! _

Jareth watched nervously from the doorway as they approached her. Soon he would have to intervene. To his surprise and bafflement she produced a crystal and made it get larger and larger until it was a bright orange ball with a few black stripes. The Fireys had all stopped to watch her. She dribbled it a couple of times to make sure it worked then passed it to the Firey who had been dribbling his head. He caught it with his free hand, balancing his head in the other, looking at it quizzically.

"Hey, this ain't ya head!"

"Nope," Sarah replied. "Where I come from, we play that game with this. It's called a basketball. Want to see?"

"Yeah!"

"Then pass it back over here!" The ball flew over her head but Ludo reached up and caught it easily in his large, hand-like paws. "Good catch, Ludo! Can you bounce it like I was? That's called dribbling."

The beast looked at the ball for a moment then started bouncing it low to the ground, his brow knit in concentration. "…dribbling…" he tried out the new word quietly.

"Good job. Didymus, are you up to this? We need to form a team to play; the Fireys can already act as one."

"If my lady wishes a bit of exercise," he said with a flourish, putting his quarterstaff aside.

"Hoggle?"

"…oh, alright missy, but don't be expectin' these old legs to run."

"Of course not. As long as you can pass, we're good."

The crowd was starting to watch with wonder as their new queen easily conversed and dealt with these wild, unpredictable creatures from the forest who most of them, while still triple-threat troublemakers and darn proud of it, would've seriously thought twice before even approaching let alone conversing with one; unlike goblins, Fireys were elementals and, therefore, dangerous without even realizing it.

"Queenie-lady, why's it called a basketball when there ain't no basket?"

"Oh, I forgot! We need a basket with a hole in the bottom big enough for the ball to fall through."

Naturally, the Fireys, who had absolutely no sense at all, began looking in ridiculous places, even in the air, calling 'basket!' as if it would come like a dog and Sarah's friends weren't doing much better considering that basket-weaving was not high on the list of priorities in the Goblin City. The goblins were still watching the spectacle but mostly just drinking. It looked, from the way that one of them was shaking one of the small barrels of ale, that they had just emptied it.

_Perfect! _Sarah pointed at it and a couple of nearby goblins pointed at each other as if they had just become targets. "Hey, guys! That'll work!" She walked over to the keg and the two goblins darted behind it, shaking. She deliberately chose to ignore their fear. "If this barrel is empty, can I use it?" They both nodded. "Thank you," she smiled, picking it up easily and walking back over to the others. In passing, she noticed Jareth was watching her with a wry smirk. "Want to do something other than stand there?"

"It seems that you have everything in hand already. What in the world are you doing?"

"You'll see," she flirted back, reaching the small group. With Hoggle's help she removed the spigot and Ludo quickly punched out the top and bottom lids. She made two more crystals and willed them to stick to the back of the barrel and with the help of the naturally acrobatic Fireys they stuck it to the fortress wall. She picked back up the ball, dribbled it a couple of times and took a shot. It went into the barrel, fell cleanly out of the other end, bounced, and one of the Fireys caught it automatically.

"Who's the referee?" he asked.

"You just volunteered," Sarah pronounced with a smile.

"Yes, ma'am!" he saluted, dropping the ball. But there were still five Fireys and only four on her team counting herself. She scanned the crowd but she couldn't be sure if any of the goblins out there were smart enough to actually pick up on the game without seeing it played first. There was nothing for it. She turned back to Jareth.

"I need one more person for my team. Will you play with us?" There was near-silence as almost everyone held their breath - a couple of goblins were obliviously slapping each other toward the back of the crowd. Jareth looked out over his anticipant subjects and his waiting queen. Such a breach in protocol had never been enacted in the whole history of the kingdom. He considered himself fairly free and easy with his subjects as it was; most sidhe wouldn't even acknowledge such creatures, let alone talk to them, but Sarah was taking this casualness to a whole new level. What would they do if he said yes? Would any modicum of respect be left him? "Come on, Jareth, it's only a game," she quietly entreated. He sighed deeply with the beginnings of a playful, dangerous smirk. There was an audible collective inhale as Jareth stepped down out of the shadows from his chosen perch and purposely strode over to the gathered company. There were a few automatic bows.

"It is an honor, sire," Sir Didymus bowed nobly. Jareth leaned in close to Sarah.

"Don't make a habit of this, love."

"Of course. You have your reputation to maintain," she teased him haughtily.

"Our reputation, darling."

"Oh fine, be that way."

There was a little smile on Hoggle's face as he watched in disbelief as they play-bickered; they _were_ soft on each other! With a glance from His Majesty, however, it instantly dropped off his face. Jareth was still every inch the imposing Goblin King.

"Okay, boys," Sarah intervened, "the object of the game is for the team you're on to get the ball through the barrel the most times and to try to keep the other team from doing so. And let's keep his clean - no fighting, no biting, and," she looked pointedly at Jareth, "no magic."

He rolled his eyes. "Why do you always insist on doing everything the hard way? Ah, well; as Her Majesty states, it is only a game," he smiled fiendishly, glancing over all of them

"It had better be," she murmured under her breath at him.

'_But a good bogging is always useful for keeping up the horde's morale!' _she heard him protest clearly in her head.

'_Not __this__ time,'_ she shot back.

And so began the first game of basketball in the history of the Underground - or, rather, barrelball as the game was instantly rechristened by the spectating crowd. The play lasted for several minutes and the Fireys, who picked up on the nuances of the game almost instinctively, were clearly at the advantage, swiftly dodging, passing, and making all their shots look easy, cackling and hollering at each other the whole time. In stark contrast, all the plays on Sarah's side had to be carefully strategized and coordinated to work. True to his word, Hoggle was no good at running but he was good at faking and quickly getting the ball to someone else who could. Didymus still had leg muscles like rubber and could bounce with the best of the Fireys. Sarah and Jareth were all speed and finesse but Jareth was more cunning and could find ways to slip through the defense much more easily than she could. Ludo was a line of defense all by himself; with his enormous girth and height he acted more like a goalie. Between the lot of them all the players had managed to score at least once, even Hoggle, who had made a couple of successful longshots from way in the back. Everyone, that is, except Ludo. The gentle giant was simply too lumbering and slow on the offensive and the Fireys easily picked the ball off him more often than not. It was obvious that he was getting frustrated because he was starting to get a little aggressive and a low growl was starting to form in the back of his throat.

"Sir Ludo!" Didymus reprimanded him. "Where is thy knightly valor? I have faith in thee - here!" And with that he deftly knocked the ball out of long Firey fingers and quickly passed it to the yeti. "Whatever happens, don't let go!" Ludo tightened his grip on the ball and simply powered his way through the entire defense, shaking off Fireys left and right until he came up to the wall. Sarah held her breath as he crouched down low and gathered his strength. With a roar of exertion he took a mighty leap up to the top of the barrel and neatly deposited the ball.

"YEAH!" he yelled in triumph, hanging from the barrel rim with one hand and pumping up on it like a gorilla as the crowd went wild.

_Well, we can't top __that_, Sarah thought with a smile as he let go and dropped to his feet to be congratulated by all the players; it was really something to see. She looked over to Jareth - only to see him looking a bit ashen and much more winded than he should've been from such simple physical exercise. He was too proud to admit to any weakness; he should've said something to her before. Fortunately, at the moment everyone was so distracted by the other game players that he was barely even noticed. Sarah made a quick executive decision. "His Majesty and I will be going back in but anyone who wants to play is welcome to do so. I look forward to your future cooperation," she graciously smiled as she linked arms with Jareth and they strode regally back into the castle. Once inside she quickly shut the doors and bolted them.

"J, why didn't you tell me you were sick?! What's wrong?"

He sighed heavily, leaning weakly against a wall for support. "I was hoping that I could stave this off until after our honeymoon, love."

And then she understood: he needed to feed. Now. He winced in pain, perceptibly gritting his teeth, rubbing his temples as if they hurt. Sarah felt terrible - he was doing this to himself because of her. She started to go to him but he put up a hand as if to fend her off.

"Stay back!"

She jumped; the look in his eyes was so predatory that it actually frightened her.

"Quick, go to my office and get the power staff."

"But I'll die if I touch it!"

"You might die if you don't! You're connected to me now so it shouldn't hurt you. **RUN****!**"

Sarah didn't have to be told twice - adrenaline and epinephrine had flooded her veins and she was running like the prey she suddenly knew she was.

_How is this ever supposed to work_? she sobbed. Rounding a corner, she reached the office and tore inside, racing to the locked glass cabinet on the far side of the wall. It opened automatically for her as if it recognized her authorization and she very gingerly took hold of the staff. Tingles like little sparks of electricity ran up her arms and all through her body. She could feel its presence in her mind as if it was almost conscious and it made her uneasy. She swallowed hard and exited the room with it clenched in both hands - it felt worse just holding it in one - only to see Jareth slowly mounting the staircase.

"Go on ahead to our room, darling," he said icily.

"But-"

"Do it," he said a bit more gently. Blinking back tears, she did as he bade, having absolutely no clue what was to happen. She ran in and got to the far edge of the room as he entered. The door closed with an ominous, resounding thud. He stalked to the opposite side of the bed and stopped.

"Do I have to hold this thing? I don't like how it feels," Sarah shuddered.

"Yes, because you have to be able to defend yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't exactly trust myself right now. Survival instinct is a hard thing to consciously override when one is pushed this far to the edge and it currently has me by the balls."

Sarah inched further away. "So…what in the world are we supposed to do?" she laughed nervously. "I mean, I don't even know how to use this thing!"

"What is the first thing that comes to your mind holding this staff?" His eyes held hers with their old familiar power, now rendered infinitely dangerous, but the magical humming in her head kept him from truly taking hold.

"A staff."

"Oh come now, dear, use your imagination. If it could do anything, what would it do?" he crooned silkily. Sarah thought. She brought it up to eye-level and stared at the sigils that had been glowing an eerie green ever since she picked it up, unlike the pure light it shone with when Jareth used it. It was starting to feel a little hot to the touch.

"Flamethrower?" she ventured.

"How?"

She closed her eyes. "Green fire. Shooting out of the end."

"Do it."

"How?!"

"All you have to do is believe that you can. Now, light it up."

"What - in here?"

"The middle of the room will suffice."

"Okay…" Sarah walked to the center of the large bedroom, incredulous of what she was about to do. Aiming away from the bed she closed her eyes and felt the whispering of the runes in her blood. She mentally made it crescendo until it felt like something ready to explode. All-of-a-sudden with a kick the end of the staff spat green fire ten feet in front of her, scorching part of the masonry of the far wall, and she gave a little yelp in surprise, eyes wide as acrid smoke plumed from the end like a rifle that had just been fired.

"Not bad," Jareth nodded with a grim smile. "That would certainly make me think twice. Now then…" He formed a communication crystal and talked to someone about what sounded oddly like scheduling an appointment. The crystal vanished. "There, it's all arranged. I leave at midnight."

"Where are you going? And why so late?"

He started walking toward her and she quickly got back on the other side of the bed.

"The High City has a feeding clinic on the edge of town that serves as a training facility for all newly-vampyric Leanaan Sidhe. I told you the first time is supervised. This is where one goes. Midnight is when dark magic like this is strongest. Besides, I have to wait for those little buggers outside to pass out; I'll not have you saddled with them so quickly," he said with a wry smile. "In the meantime it would behoove you to keep me in sight for your own safety. I suppose we can get the cobbler over here; goodness knows there's time to kill."

"Aren't you worried about people seeing you like this?"

"Not really. It's common knowledge that I've been staving this off ever since I returned and now the situation will be amended. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Another communication brought over the cobbler and while he seemed genuinely concerned about Jareth's current state he made three-dimensional copies of Sarah's feet and took an order for a few different styles of shoes (including one for high men's boots that earned her quite a look of disapproval to Jareth's obvious amusement.) The sun went down and Jareth magicked upstairs a quick dinner for her, stating that he had to fast. As they sat there in silent standoff, Sarah was mulling over the course of events of that afternoon. Clearly there was quite a bit about the species that she still knew absolutely nothing about. But there was a way to find out.

"Can I go with you?"

Jareth looked surprised. "Whatever for, dear?"

"If I'm actually marrying you, I think I have the right to know what I'm getting myself into."

Jareth sighed sadly. "I promised I would never hurt you. I would rather that you hurt me! Why else would I arm you with my best weapon?"

"I know, I just…it's just that there's so much that I feel like I _don't_ know…and…"

He gravely nodded. "I understand. You will come. I'm sure they can accommodate a spectator."

The hours seemed to drag but at last it was the witching hour and as the clock on the fireplace mantle chimed thirteen an escort of four well-built sidhe men appeared in the room. They were black-haired, with it cut relatively short for Underground standards - well above the shoulder - and all wore black, which was certainly nothing new, but it looked much more like a uniform. All had different-colored elemental markings on their faces and Sarah did her best not to stare. Curious glances grazed Sarah in return but it was obvious who the patient was. Two of them took Jareth by the arms to support him but before they could transport he piped up. "She's coming with us."

Eyebrows shot up at that request. The man to his right voiced his concern.

"Surely you don't mean to use her! They've scheduled you two of our best starters!"

"She desires to witness the proceedings and I am granting her request," Jareth calmly replied.

They looked a bit puzzled but nevertheless motioned for her to join them.

"Leave that staff here," another of them said haughtily to Sarah, "you won't be needing it anymore tonight."

With a look of approval from Jareth she gratefully put it down on the bed, doing a full body shiver before joining their group as she felt it withdraw from her mind. There were a few coldly amused smiles but they said nothing as one of them stepped behind her and firmly put his arms around her waist to secure her. In a flash they were gone - she could sense the others around her, her precious golden light to her left, as these strange stars sped through time and space to their destination.


	26. Darkside

Chapter 26 - Darkside

They all arrived simultaneously in a room that felt eerily like a vault. There were no doors or windows and the place was lit by torches in the walls. Each wall - even the floor and ceiling - appeared to be one solid piece of granite that had been polished until it shone. A large black leather couch graced one wall and a table piled with an assortment of breads, cheeses, fruit, various drink decanters and books in a number of languages filled most of the remaining available space. Claustrophobia threatened to overwhelm Sarah in spite of the fact that it was not a small space; the ceiling was a very respectable height, at least twenty feet. It was the fact that there was no logical way for air to ever enter here! Was breathing a luxury for these beings, too?! A hand on her shoulder steadied her and she looked back; it was the guard who had transported her.

"Not to worry. It simply wouldn't do to have paid donors suffocate down here, now would it?" His twinkling brown eyes and slight smile spoke more amusement than kindness but it was still reassuring to know. One of them walked up to the far wall and rapped three times.

"Enter!" a male voice said from the other side. The guard took her by one arm with his left hand interlaced tightly over hers and their entire company walked through the wall! Sarah felt the sensation of passing a barrier not quite like a thick soap bubble and unlike anything else. The room they were now in felt heavy somehow, she couldn't quite place it. The illumination in here was so bright it almost looked artificial save that there was no visible source, which made the place feel even more ominous. Four black chairs that looked to Sarah like they were straight out of someone's dungeon were bolted to the floor with their backs to the walls. All had multiple restraining belts, even one for the neck. Two faced the wall they had come through, the others faced the one opposite. An older-looking, tall male sidhe with shoulder-length salt-and-pepper hair was already in the room and he motioned for the guards holding Jareth to put him into the chair in the left-hand corner of the room, addressing him.

"It was quite generous of you to bring your own supply, Lord Ravensong, but I think that you will find our Angus and Thor to be more than sufficient," he smiled.

"My Lady Sarah is here to witness," Jareth said, seating himself and giving the signal that the guards could commence binding him. The older sidhe suddenly looked back to Sarah in shock as if truly noticing her for the first time and noting well the Goblin King's seal hanging conspicuously around her neck, finding himself in rather an awkward position.

"This…is…?" he faltered.

"You honestly didn't think I'd give up after all that, now did you?" Jareth teased him, enjoying his nervousness.

"With all due respect, your Majesty, a first-feeding is no place for a human female, especially one not accustomed to our ways."

Jareth's raised eyebrows were all that greeted this concern.

The elder sighed, defeated. "Put her in the chair in the opposite corner."

Sarah was shocked as two of the guards got up from securing Jareth's legs and led her over, motioning for her to sit.

"Am I allowed to ask why _I'm_ being tied to a chair?" she asked uneasily. The elder sidhe turned to her with a grim smile, pacing toward her.

"He might try to pull you over by will alone. You are being restrained for your own safety, child." He walked back over to Jareth's side and put a hand on his shoulder, looking down at him as they carefully adjusted his neck belt. "Hades does not hold a demon half as strong as a starving son of the Leanaan Sidhe," he said with a touch of pride. Like clockwork there was knocking on the wall again. "Enter!" In came another guard and two well-built human men in their early-to-mid twenties, one a fiery redhead, the other a sandy blonde. Both appeared to be wearing peasant clothing after a fashion; shirts, breeches, boots, all obviously handmade.

_They're men from the colony_, Sarah thought. And it suddenly dawned on her. _This is why they brought them here in the first place, of course_, she shivered. In spite of the macabre scene, the men were in high spirits. The one she took to be Thor spoke first.

"So, the almighty Goblin King has finally come begging for a piece of this?" he gestured to himself. "We were taking bets as to how long you'd hold out and I won!"

"Oh, he won, alright," the other chimed in as the guard rolled up his right sleeve and put his arm in a splint, "but you don't want him, mate. B-positive is awful if you ask around; all this brute has is stamina. Now, me, on the other hand - well, these nice gents here say A-negative tastes like dessert wine and I've got plenty of it!"

Thor belatedly noticed the other guards putting the final straps on Sarah and asking her if any of them hurt. "Whoa, nobody said nothing about a double-header! I can hold out for one starter but I don't know about two!"

"It's all right, lads," Jareth said with a smug half-smile, "Her Majesty is only a spectator." At this they both whipped around to stare at her. The reaction was getting old but Sarah realized now that she should've expected it; her story must've been legendary.

"Hello," she said quietly with a small smile. The guard securing Angus' arm acted as if nothing extraordinary were happening and finished his work, attaching a strap with a cup to go over his left shoulder, holding the splint up effectively at a 90 degree angle.

"I'll take those amulets now," the elder said, effortlessly pulling free the chain that held Jareth's around his neck. As if anticipating her question, Jareth answered it.

"It's standard procedure, love; they hold a bit of magic and this room is warded against it as a precaution. Then, of course, there's the strangulation liability and in more ways than the one you're currently imagining."

The elder crossed the room and took hers as well. His presence was comforting somehow, she couldn't quite place it. "I do wish you would reconsider your decision, child. Once we have commenced, no one will be leaving this chamber for any reason at all until he has completed the first round. If you are truly here of your own free will, no one in this room would hold it against you if you took shelter in the antechamber. There are a myriad of diversions and a couch you can rest on if you are tired. It _is_ rather late…"

Suddenly Sarah wanted nothing more than to flee this horrid place. What was she doing here?! She had no business being here and, truth be told, she was exhausted both physically and mentally. She couldn't desert Jareth in his hour of need. Wait. That last thought didn't fit the pattern of the other ones and she knew it had come from the heart. She blinked. What was going on? Why was she feeling this way? The elder was still standing there, radiating a feeling of compassion, his expression all concern for her. And then she remembered what Jareth had said about sidhe commonly using variants of the same come-hither spell on humans that they didn't know or trust. The urge to leave was coming from him. For whatever reason, he wanted her out of the way. She pushed against the feeling and it bent back easily.

"Thanks all the same but I'm staying right here," she said with a confident smile. He looked a bit put out but walked away and the feeling left with him. He strode up to Jareth, who was looking awfully proud of his queen - she had just passed her first test with flying colors.

"I hope for your sake that you know what you're doing," he murmured just loud enough for him to hear.

"Your concern is duly noted," Jareth replied with a cold, diplomatic smile.

They were ready. "Angus?" The man swaggered over, momentarily sticking his tongue out over his shoulder at his companion, who had gone to stand by Sarah in support. The elder had produced a small silver sickle-shaped knife no bigger than his palm. Presenting his now-splinted arm, Angus didn't even flinch as he watched the sidhe make a tiny incision into the vein in his wrist. To Sarah's amazement, it didn't bleed! Now prepared, he walked over to Jareth and positioned his opened wrist right in front of his face. During this whole preparation, Jareth had been feeling that lurking beast within him stirring violently in its sleep and now it had begun to awaken. And he hated it with every last cell in his body. It was instinct and it was taking over. Angus was the one to break the tense silence.

"Oh, come on! You've gotten us all to this god-forsaken place in the middle of the night - the least you can do is suck!"

Jareth's gaze flicked to Sarah momentarily, who was watching with trepidation from the edge of her seat in spite of the fact that she was strapped back into it.

"Forgive me, darling," he whispered hoarsely, glancing at her with a look nearly as frightened as her own for a moment. With a snarl he roughly willed the man's arm to his mouth and latched on hard, eliciting a surprised yell from the donor.

"WOW! He's pullin' fast - look at him go!"

"I should say so," the elder said placidly, checking Jareth's vitals in his left confined wrist, "he certainly waited long enough. If he'd waited another day he'd be looking for a new queen," he said pointedly looking at Sarah. Her eyes were glued to the spectacle and they spoke of awe, sympathy, and a bit of honest revulsion.

_At least he isn't messy. _'_Would you deny a carnivore the very meat it needs to survive?' _Morgan's words cruelly echoed in her memory as one treacherous tear escaped her. She was beginning to feel faint at the sight but she was already sitting down; there wasn't much else to be done. Even if she passed out she wasn't going anywhere.

"As you can see, Lady, they're not always that pretty," Thor said quietly, putting his hand on her shoulder; it was almost an act of sympathy. She looked up at him. The difference between these men and their otherworldly counterparts couldn't have been more stark than day and night when they were presented side-by-side like that. There was real weight to that frame standing next to her, thick bone and muscle and sweat glands and so many other things that she had always taken for granted.

_How strange humans must seem to them_, she suddenly thought; these preternaturally clean beings who could process everything they ate and shift everything from their clothes to their location at will. _And with all that they're still dependent upon us. No wonder they don't talk about it!_

Things had been going pretty steadily when Angus piped up again.

"…hey, HEY! Oh, bloody hell, he's bitin'! Get him off!"

The elder instantly interceded, mentally separating them, eliciting a frustrated snarl from Jareth, who looked up at him with wild, bestial eyes.

"Please…so…hungry…"

"Now listen to me, Jareth," the elder said sternly, "this man's flesh does you no good. You only need his blood. If you want the hand that feeds to continue to do so you can't bite it!"

Jareth suddenly saw his brutal handiwork and gave a heart-wrenching sob.

"Shh," the elder stroked his hair momentarily as if he had been his own son, "just drink." And Jareth did so. "His vitals are on the rise. How much longer can you hold out, Angus?"

"A few more minutes but I'm starting to get light-headed."

"Good work. Thor, you'd better get over here." With a nod the man took his leave of Sarah and briskly joined the company. "Do you mind if we use your left arm this time?"

"Not as long as you fix me up as well as you did the last time."

"Of course," the latter oozed genially, pleased that he would willingly cooperate; Thor usually favored his right wrist due to an old injury. Perhaps the human woman here was of some use after all. "I ask because we're going to have to perform a clean switch. Do you both remember the drill?" They nodded in unison. The guards rapidly splinted Thor - time was of the essence now - and the elder made the same ominous incision. Thor walked casually over to feeder and food and placed his arm on top of Angus', lined up at the wrists. When Jareth showed no acknowledgement of his presence, he tapped him on the shoulder with his free hand, then slightly shook him. The sidhe's dilated eyes flashed up to his, transfixing him to the spot, releasing Angus.

"**Yes**?"

"…dessert's over, Sire. Here's the liver and onions."

Eyes still locked he judiciously sniffed the man's wrist and gave a bark of a laugh with a wry smirk that looked much more like himself.

"Good answer," he silkily drawled. Sarah watched with baited breath as he released the man's consciousness and took his wrist instead. Angus leaned against the wall in relief and two of the guards helped him over to the chair opposite to Jareth's and removed the splint. There was were large, dark bruises from the biting and some areas where his skin had been roughly scraped off but only a drop of blood on his wrist showed that anything of a vampyric nature had happened to him at all.

"That was a good show, Angus," the elder said, approaching him as the man caught his breath. "Your stamina is improving."

"Thank you, sir."

"Now, let's see that wrist. Ah yes, he did leave some nasty marks but at least he didn't go all the way through the skin. I thought he had sharper teeth than that. Lucky for you." Without another word he produced the sickle knife again and slit his own palm clear across without the slightest hesitation as Jareth had tried to do clumsily that day with her. Murmuring some words in the sidhe tongue, he grasped the man's wounded wrist with his wounded palm for a moment. When he pulled away, they were both completely healed. "Do the bites still hurt anywhere?"

"No, not at all."

"Excellent." He produced a purse of coins and deposited it in the man's upturned palm. "Should he choose you as one of his regulars, I have no doubt that you will be able to bargain most amiably with His Majesty but tonight was an extreme emergency on very short notice and we must take what we can get."

Angus gave the purse a heft and it jingled loudly. "I don't know what you're worried about; this will suit me just fine!" the big man laughed heartily.

The elder returned an arch smile. "Just remember who the client is," he said quietly, turning back to his patient.

In his heightened state, Jareth was becoming hypersensitive to everything and everyone in the room: the bored but ready guards, the cynical master of ceremonies, the recovering man with a wife and five children and a farm, the man he was currently feeding from who made money any way he could to cover his gambling debts - even fighting - and Sarah, his beloved Sarah, who was helplessly watching this whole miserable ordeal with nothing but her devotion for him and the faith that this would soon be over to sustain her wracked nerves and relentlessly pounding heart. He even felt his chair's molecules and the floor beneath his feet vibrating to keep their solidness. He felt as if he filled the whole room and could move about freely in spite of the magic ward on the place and his complete bodily restraint. And in that moment he knew what he wanted to do more than anything else in the world. He consciously shot across the room and kissed Sarah full on the mouth. His presence was so sudden that she hadn't even had time to think and he was working on her with such passionate abandon that she could do nothing but respond, crying in relief as he cradled her face in his hands, lavishing his great affection upon her. Only Thor noticed the sudden change and finally mustered the courage to speak.

"Um…guys…I know this is going to sound crazy but I think His Majesty has taken a fancy to me arm…"

The elder looked over and beheld the strange sight himself: Jareth appeared to be making love to the man's wrist as much as he was drinking from it. His open eyes were vacant as if he were mentally somewhere else. But where? Angus laughed at their predicament, pointing in jest, and turned to Sarah to see her reaction to the spectacle. And see it he did. She was making love to the air with her eyes closed and like lightning he put two and two together.

"Look to the woman!" he cried out in alarm. The elder looked back and realized what danger they were all in. Strong indeed - he'd never seen a feeder so strong or concentrated in his entire existence! What power was this that leapt about free as a bird when body and soul were in chains?!

"Look alive, men! We have to break his concentration now! Hold hands! On the count of three! One…two, and-"

A shockwave of power ripped out of the group, sufficient to plant Jareth squarely back into his body. He stopped sucking to glare at them angrily for interrupting as Sarah jolted in surprise, reeling from his sudden departure. He was back in his bonds once more and all the other sidhe were in a ring on the left side of the room.

"I am sorry to have to intervene like this, your Highness," the elder began to apologize, "but it simply isn't safe for any of us when you…" He looked dumbfounded, slowly shaking his head; he had no words to describe what had just happened. Jareth's look turned almost to pity. They would never understand. At least, not unless he had the courage to say something. He looked across the room to her.

"I love you, Sarah."

"I know," she nodded, tears flowing down her cheeks. The present company was completely baffled. All except Angus; the emotion in the Goblin King's eyes was clear enough that he was willing to go out on a limb and believe him to be the rare exception of the species that could make a union like this actually work. Thinking about it, he himself would've been willing to risk something like that to console his own wife were he in the king's boots. And to think that these 'advanced' beings couldn't understand something so simple. It was pathetic. Thor chose to simply ignore the awkwardness and got to the point.

"Any more, sire? I can hold out longer than Angus there."

Jareth looked up at him, appearing to be more in his right mind now, and sighed.

"I suppose I shouldn't let the opportunity go to waste but I think I'm about finished. Just tell me when." Thor had never been given the choice before and he straightened up a bit, feeling slightly more important. He was used to being looked down upon and patronized by these beings…well…by some of the townsfolk, too, but that was different. This was different. He couldn't believe that this sidhe king had just treated him as if he had some worth, even in slight, and Jareth wasn't missing a moment of his mental soliloquy. Circumstances permitting, he had made his decision. He had sped up again but Thor was starting to feel weak in the knees.

"I think that's all I can give, sire."

Jareth promptly pulled away and the guards cared for the man while the elder checked Jareth's vitals again and gave his verdict.

"Well, considering your age your body handled that remarkably well. Everything is finally getting up to where it should be."

"Am I free to leave, then?"

"No, not yet. Your energy is still a bit chaotic; your body hasn't had the proper time to stabilize it yet - this is quite a big change, physically-speaking. And you need to learn to control it at will and not the other way 'round. We will see to that tonight. You're staying in these restraints at least an hour. I and my men will be here to look after your needs." He crossed the room and healed Thor, who was now sitting in the chair that Angus had occupied; the other man now lounged against the wall. Jareth thought of asking Angus as well but quickly perceived that he was already too busy with these sorts of 'clients.' Thor, on the other hand…

"Thor?"

The man looked up in surprise. "Yes, sire?"

"Come here."

The elder looked slightly amused at the king's decision when there was a veritable directory to choose from but Jareth ignored him, eyes full on the tall, burly man quickly striding toward him with his hazel-blue eyes glued submissively to the floor. "I can help you to stop gambling," he said quietly. Thor met and searched his eyes.

"Why?" he asked, suspicious. There was always a subversive reason for an offer like that.

"Oh, come, man, you can't tell me that you have no further aspirations in life! Don't you want to do something other than squander all your resources? I can make you _want_ to stop."

"If you're tryin' ta get off cheap-"

"I am trying to help you!" The king looked sincere. Thor was confused.

"But…why?"

Jareth's expression softened. He had to remember where he was. Clearly no one had ever bothered to care.

"Because I believe some good should come of this necessary evil. What say you?"

Thor's gaze dropped again, his hands in his pockets, lightly kicking the floor.

"I wouldn't even know what to _want_."

"Ah, now dreams happen to be my specialty," Jareth wryly smiled, feeling a twinge of irony. "Think it over. I shall call upon you in a week for your answer."

"Very well. Was that all, sire?"

"Yes; you can go." Thor turned to leave when Jareth suddenly thought to ask. "How _is_ the human colony faring these days on the whole?"

Thor looked over his shoulder and gave a humorless laugh. "It's a tough life by your standards but we seem to manage alright."

Jareth nodded absently and the man retreated.

_Downright __bizarre__, that one_, Thor thought. Maybe he was trying to be nicer about it because of the species of his queen. He saw that she was all but forgotten, restrained in the other corner of the room. "What about her?" he asked the elder, who glanced back in turn with a slight smile.

"I think it would be best if she joined you both in the antechamber for the time being; we're all in for a long night."

The guards came over and quickly undid her bonds, the one who had transported her offering her a hand up, and then an arm seeing that she was still a bit shaken. Sarah gave Jareth one last backward glance and the guard with her and the two human men passed through the wall again into the other room. Thor and Angus quickly took to the food and drink and crashed into the couch as if they felt very much at home here. Now feeling rather awkward, stranded between two worlds - the world of these men and the world of the guard - she had no idea how she was supposed to act here or what she was even allowed to do. Swallowing her trepidation (nothing would ever faze her nearly as much after witnessing that) she screwed up her nerve and asked the guard.

"Am I allowed to sit? Is it alright if talk to them?"

"This is not a prison, my lady," he mockingly threw her new title at her, "you are all free to do as you wish in here. Within reason, of course."

She nodded, trying to smile, and made her way over to the couch. "Mind if I join you?"

Angus looked a bit surprised but Thor answered her.

"Not at all. Please, sit. Have some wine. You have very strong nerves but all the same this should help."

"Thank you," she said as he poured her a glass and she took a few swallows in relief, sitting down between them as they made room for her. Goodness, what to talk about! "How long have you two been…"

"Donors? Ever since I came of age - it's easy money if you're strong enough to do it regular. Angus here only started about… when, last spring was it?"

"My wife just gave us our third daughter - five children in all."

"Well, congratulations!" Sarah turned to him.

"Thank you…my lady," he said, feeling a bit awkward about saying it for the first time to one of his own kind, "but even with a successful farm that's too many mouths for my pocket. And of all things, the first one who signs me up is an aging duchess with the, uh, sidhe birthing problem," Angus said quietly and Sarah nodded, "and wanted nothing more than to play with my children! She still takes them in on certain days of the week. Spoils 'em rotten but I don't begrudge it; she's never had anything like 'em and they deserve everything she gives. Treats 'em a bit like you or I would treat a litter of puppies but other than that no complaints here," he laughed.

"You said it takes stamina…how much? Is it always like what I just saw in there? I plan on…helping my lord as I can."

"Oh, goodness no," Thor said, "it's nothing like what you just witnessed. Lord Ravensong was catching up back there - I'd say he's been starving for the better part of a month or two. No, it's a lot tamer than that. Well, usually anyway; there are a few crazies floating around out there but on the whole this is a pretty casual experience. Once they've civilized your lord in there in a few hours they'll give him one of those nice little blades and he'll be able to take it from anywhere he fancies, not just the wrist. There are even those who do it down there as they…" he looked down pointedly at her lap and met her eyes again suggestively and Sarah flushed bright pink - she had certainly never thought of _that_ before! The guard had been listening in and noticed Sarah's sudden discomfort.

"I believe that's quite enough out of you, Thor."

Angus spoke up in his defense. "He wouldn't be sitting here clumsily trying to tell her the facts of life if you all weren't so damned secretive about your so-called weakness! This woman has braved _everything_ to come here for some shred of the truth!" He turned to Sarah. "And the truth is that it normally doesn't even hurt," he said gently. The elder suddenly entered the room and walked over to Sarah.

"How is he?" she asked. He smiled at her concern.

"Lord Ravensong is stable and holding, child, but I want to keep him overnight just to make sure. You are to be one of his donors, are you not?"

She nodded.

"For your own safety I desire to accustom him to your taste. This is normally not a great danger but you share a roof and a bed if I am not mistaken from your energy, and he needs to be doubly in control of his urge because of it. With your permission, I would like to take a vial of your blood for him. Do you know what type you are?"

"A positive."

He sighed in relief. "Thank the gods it isn't negative; I would almost have to protest for the sake of your life! Is the right wrist acceptable?"

She swallowed. "I guess so."

He smiled warmly at her unease. "Be calm, child; this shall only take a moment." He produced a clear glass vial about seven inches long - really only a bit bigger than the ones they used in the doctor's office for her yearly physical - and knelt in front of her. Gently shoving up her sleeve and turning her arm over, he took the small sickle knife and positioned it over her vein. She was shaking slightly but Thor held her arm to steady her and the elder made his cut along the vein. To her amazement, she didn't even feel it! He turned her wrist down over the vial and her blood simply trickled in at a pretty quick rate - it was uncanny seeing something behave like that. After about half a minute it was full and he put a stopper on it, setting it on the table. Quickly slicing his palm, he said the words again and held her wrist for a moment. There was only a vague tingling as if her arm had fallen asleep and then he pulled away with a knowing smile: it was over. "There, now that wasn't so terrible, was it?"

"What are those words you say?" Sarah suddenly thought to ask. "I mean, what do they mean? I'm sorry if I'm not supposed to ask but I was just curious."

"I believe it translates to, 'by our blood done, by our blood undone' in your own tongue, but saying it in the sidhe language makes it a healing spell."

"That should be common knowledge if you don't mind my saying so - doing that without it…" she shuddered. "It's an experience I wouldn't care to repeat."

"Who did this to you?"

"Jar- Lord Ravensong. We tried it at my house but not with the wrist when he was still trying to gain power. He said he didn't like the taste."

The elder stood up, looking serious. "That was extremely foolish of him to do; you were both very lucky." He picked up the vial and looked at it thoughtfully for a moment. "Perhaps if he isn't terribly fond of A positive it is a blessing in disguise. Then again, they all taste dreadful until the full instinct comes upon one." He met her eyes again. "But we shall find out for certain. He isn't leaving this place until I am confident that he can turn it on and off at will and perform the incision and healing properly. I want him to come back three times a week until we can determine his physical schedule and how often he actually needs it. If you ever feel that you are in imminent physical danger from him, do not hesitate to contact me immediately. I charge double for house calls but I feel certain he would pay it under such a circumstance. I do not say this to frighten you but mistakes do happen and I need you to be aware of the possibility, at least at first. As for the present moment, I see no further reason for you to be here and Lord Ravensong quite agrees with me this time. There is nothing more for you to learn and the hour is very late. Do you need an escort home or can you manage?"

Sarah lowered her eyes, embarrassed. "I cannot transport by myself."

The elder nodded with a small smile and gave her a hand up. "Anwyl, take the Lady Sarah wherever she wishes to go."

"Yes, sir," the guard gave a quick bow and walked over to join her, stepping in behind her as he had before.

"It was nice meeting you all," she said quickly. The elder quietly laughed and exited the room. She looked after him, confused.

"It isn't often that a predator is so warmly welcomed by his prey," Thor said. "It was nice talking to you, too. Please tell your lord for me that I accept his offer - you'll be seeing more of me!"

Sarah smiled and nodded.

"Where does my genial lady wish to go?" the guard asked, amused by the whole scene.

"The Goblin Castle."

"Yes, but where?"

She thought. "The Throne Room?"

Anwyl smirked at her hesitancy. "As you wish." Rather than the star-form she had seen before, the room rippled like the surface of a pond and the world swam around her for a moment until it stilled again. They were in the castle. He stepped back, releasing her. She turned to face him, surprised.

"How did you…why was that…"

He gave a short laugh. "May I ask you a question?"

"Probably."

He smirked. "Is it really true that no two humans are totally alike? Not even when a litter is born all looking identical?"

"Yes."

"It is so also with the sidhe. We all have unique ways of doing certain things even though they are things that we all do. I believe your lord is more of the air variety. My affinity is with water." He proudly ran his finger down the dark blue ribbon of color along the side of his nose.

"Then why the stars?"

"It is easier to transport as a pod if the group agrees beforehand on a uniform way; that one is standard. Now, is this an inquisition or can I return to my post?"

"Oh, yes of course. Sorry to keep you," she blurted. He smiled, shaking his head.

"If you are truly a queen, you cannot be afraid to act like one," he said, handing her back her amulet. "Goodnight, my lady."

"Goodnight."

He rippled out of existence. Sarah wearily made her way up to the bedroom, wondering how she would ever get to sleep.


	27. One of Us, part 2

Chapter 27 - One of us, part 2

Sarah had finally passed out from exhaustion in the wee hours of the morning and woke up around early afternoon, just in time to see Jareth materialize in the bedroom. He looked very spent himself but in spite of his present condition she had to admit he looked healthier than she could ever remember him looking; there was even a faint flush of light peach over his usually pallid complexion. Those first few moments were terribly awkward, neither quite sure what to say to the other after such an ordeal, but at last he climbed into bed with her and gentle kisses and reassuring caresses accomplished what words could not. Before he fell asleep himself, he informed her that they would have to visit the old High Queen on the morrow to ask for her blessing on their hand-fasting; he could postpone it no longer. It struck Sarah as both frightening and absurd that such favor or lack thereof could make such a difference in political stability but she soberly reminded herself that even in spite of the Federation having overthrown the absolute monarchy, this was certainly no democracy. This was still largely the old world - its best and its worst - and it would greatly behoove her to learn how things worked here. Once Jareth was down for the count, Sarah washed up, dressed and ate, and, after serious deliberation, formed a communication crystal and called Morgan, who came right over.

"You know it's a bit late to be getting cold feet, dear," she teased Sarah good-naturedly, taking a seat by her on the sofa in the castle library.

"He's taking me to see the High Queen tomorrow."

"Ah, the dreaded mother-in-law meeting," she smiled, "and am I correct in assuming that your panic is due to the fact that as usual my brother has chosen not to bother with teaching you the proper protocol?"

"…yes."

Morgan was still smiling. "You did the right thing in calling me. You'll never survive that interview without it. Our mother isn't a hard woman but she is most definitely set in her ways and her opinions. There aren't many left from her generation; she remembers the golden age of our race and insists on living as if it were still here. Now then, since the information you seek is valuable, I'm afraid I must insist."

Sarah quickly recalled this woman's ominous first offer of 'paid assistance' and swallowed her fear, pulling up her right sleeve to expose her wrist but Morgan pulled it back down, leaning in with a conspiratory smile, hardly able to contain herself.

"Alright, now how did it really go last night? I want details!"

Sarah told her the whole story, glad that there was at last someone she could talk to about it. Morgan was impressed not only by her brother's performance and antics but also by Sarah's nerve in retelling it; she only went a little pale when she spoke of him first latching on but she quickly recovered and continued. She even confided in her how strange it felt being stranded between the two species - not quite sidhe but not entirely human. Taken by surprise at Sarah's frank openness and willingness to befriend her, Morgan was beginning to see what had drawn Jareth to this woman. True to her word, she spent the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening rounding out Sarah's socio-political education, specifically the behavior and knowledge she would need to visit the High City and the Historical High Palace. By the time the former princess left, Sarah felt like if she was told anything else her head would explode but, oddly enough, she could easily bring any of it to mind.

The next day came all too quickly and with it came Jareth fretting over her appearance, changing her dress at least twenty times before coming up with 'the most appropriate one' - a dark burgundy affair, with many layers of a satin-like material and faerie-dross gems (gorgeous opalescent baubles that were technically worthless but valued for the look). He carefully suited up to match her. Sarah had never been so nervous in her life. Even the other night paled; she'd had no idea what was in store for her there and, consequentially, hadn't really started worrying until she was told to defend herself! If this woman's progeny were so antsy about pleasing her, what chance did an ape like _she_ have?! Sarah wasn't even supposed to look her in the face for more than a passing glance!

"Everything will be just fine, love," Jareth reassured her before they transported. "Just be your sweet, honest self. Oh, and do try not to gawk," he added with a mischievous smile as he stepped behind her, holding the power staff in his right hand, his other arm snaked around her waist. In a blast of light they were off and arrived mere seconds later. His warning was almost instantly forgotten as the High Palace came into view and Sarah had to work hard to keep her jaw from hitting the ground - the contrast between his mother's abode and his own was like the difference between a pile of cement bricks and a gilded jewel box! It was easily seven times as large as the Goblin Castle and so lavishly ornate even on the outside that it was hard to believe that it had ever been a functioning fortress, let alone seen war.

'_With over a millennium of civil peace in the High City they've had nothing but time to spruce things up,' _he thought in her mind with a note of wry sarcasm_._

They had appeared directly before the front gates and, upon recognizing Lord Ravensong, the guards bowed low and opened the immense bronze portal to admit them. Once inside they made a teleported leap past the courtyard lawn up the huge staircase to the ceremonial entrance. As he stepped to her side and she put her hand on his arm, Sarah glanced back over her shoulder to see many lords and ladies chatting, disappearing and reappearing elsewhere like so many bubbles on a river popping in and out of existence. She wondered if she would ever fully get used to it. Another pair of guards bowed and opened the front doors. With ominous echoes, they walked into the Great Hall.

The Hall was as spacious as an ancient temple, with a soaring marble ceiling and floor and emerald pillars every few yards for structural support; there were bronze sconces but only a few were lit. The full-house standing capacity of the place must've been in the thousands; the Hall was even wider than it was long, shrinking in the distance to the left and the right.

_How many epochs of history has this place seen_? Sarah wondered, trying not to look around too much. A pair of medieval-looking solid-gold thrones, glittering with precious stones, were visible at the far end of the chamber, roped off as if they were in a museum. Every ten yards there was an armed sentry in dark blue livery, lining the approach to the thrones.

'_No one has been allowed to sit in those thrones since the overthrow of the Empire,' _Jareth continued his discreet observations. _'The castle has been occupied from that day to this. The Guard of the Federation,'_ he glanced at one of them coolly and Sarah followed his gaze. It was returned with a haughty glare. She could feel other eyes watching them as they made their stately way through the cave-like Hall. _'This place is under eternal surveillance.'_

'_The Guard's giving me the creeps! Can't we just jump there like we jumped across the lawn?' _

He covered her hand on his arm momentarily.

'_Sorry, darling, it isn't allowed in here. We'll be there soon enough.' _

As they approached the thrones he suddenly guided her to the right and down an adjacent corridor, up a very broad flight of stairs carpeted in thick green velvet to the second landing and down a cozier-looking corridor adorned with ancient tapestries and silks. Their trip appeared to terminate at a ten-foot-high arched door with an armed guard in front of it like the ones outside. Beautiful harp music had been coming from within but it stopped abruptly when they were only halfway down the hall, as if their presence was sensed, and when they got there the guard admitted them instantly with a formal announcement.

"The Lord Jareth Ravensong and his queen," the guard tacked on with a note of disdain, closing the door behind them. It was a capacious but imminently comfortable-looking drawing room, bright and warm, with large bay windows all along one wall and quite a lot of furniture, as if it were used for social entertaining. Everything was in soft tones and gold was everywhere. And in the far right of the room, sitting rigidly straight with an aristocratic air on a bench looking out of one of those windows, was a woman in an immaculate rose-colored dress with long silver hair. Two lovely young women were seated at her feet, one holding a book and the other a small wooden harp. She had yet to even acknowledge the newcomers' existence. Jareth broke the intolerable silence.

"Greetings…Mother."

The woman who had once been the High Queen quietly sighed.

"Bridget, Moire, you may leave us."

The two girls got up, pliéd low before her and quickly paced to the door, dropping a fast curtsy before the prince and venturing a curious glance at Sarah as they left. Upon hearing the door close the queen got up and began to leisurely pace to the center of the room. As she approached, it was all Sarah could do not to stare - everyone had failed to mention that the woman was nearly eight feet tall! She was quickly reminded of the old stories of how the sidhe used to be almost giants but eventually shrank with the shrinking of human belief in them but after meeting other sidhe of about her own size she had thought nothing of it. Until now.

_The 'older generation'… _Idunna Ravensong had the build of a goddess, lithe and perfectly proportioned to her immense size. Golden flames stained her brow and around her neck she wore a torque of solid silver, engraved with Celtic knots, that terminated in a moonstone that was as big in circumference as Sarah's fist. She still bore a harshly-cut beauty, though now just a little faded and slightly creased, and her icy, taunting lip-smile was eerily recognizable. As soon as the queen reached them Sarah fell to her knees and kept her eyes glued to the floor as instructed, taking Jareth completely by surprise.

"Sarah, you don't have to do this!" he frantically hissed through his teeth. His mother stopped right in front of Sarah and pulled back a bit to scrutinize the job her son had done of dressing her, then leaned forward slightly, momentarily brushing the top of Sarah's head lightly with her long fingernails as she walked passed her, giving her goosebumps.

"At least she understands her place here," the queen finally pronounced, "even if you do not." Furious at his mother's conduct he deliberately got down on his knees beside Sarah and held her hand, staring up at the queen with fire in his eye. "Get up this instant! This is unseemly behavior for a sidhe of your age and only compounds your insult!"

"All of this is unseemly behavior at this day and age!" he shot back. "I don't care what you or anybody thinks - she is my equal and if that means kowtowing beside her for the rest of my life-"

His speech was cut short as the old queen magically hauled him to his feet by will alone! He looked shocked and surprised at her sudden burst of power. She was panting slightly from the exertion, her hand to her chest as she caught her breath, but the whisper of a devious smile stole across her face.

"You always were a rebel; I should've known it would come to something like this one day, but as long as you remain in my house you will obey protocol, is that quite understood?"

Jareth was quietly seething but his gaze had dropped to the floor.

"Very well." Idunna began to circle them; if the situation were not so serious Sarah would've found it funny that his mother could still handle him like that! "Of course, you would've received a much warmer welcome if you had bothered to consult me before you bonded the girl to yourself."

"She was aging! I had to-"

She put up a hand to quell the oncoming tirade. "But what is done is done," she continued calmly. "My son tells me that you had a profession in the sciences while you lived upon Earth but he is incapable of explaining it to me to my satisfaction. Precisely, what_ is_ it that you are trained to do?"

Sarah suddenly froze being put on the spot like that - she felt like she was accounting for herself in the afterlife! After a false start she took a breath and got her voice back under control.

"I was a research scientist for my government, creating cleaner forms of generating energy."

"'Cleaner' energy," the queen reiterated, nonplussed.

"If I may elaborate, your majesty, in the absence of other forms of power, man has been generating his own electricity by burning wood, coal, and especially refined petroleum oil chiefly, in vast quantities. It has been with us on a widespread practical scale for a little over a century and we now use it for everything from mass manufacturing to various styles of transportation to many of the basic amenities in our homes. It has greatly advanced our society but at a terrible price. Our planet has become very polluted with the refuse from our industry, especially the atmosphere, to the point that it is beginning to change our global climate and weather patterns to say nothing of lost forests and water pollution. The problem was only being talked about for a long while with middling results. There are a few fairly new ways of creating electricity that have been invented at the end of the last earth century that are non-polluting, utilizing wind and radiation from the sun. Sadly, they are not in widespread use yet chiefly because of high startup costs for switching over to the new methods but we're slowly building it up. I just completed work on a transportation vehicle that can run on sunlight alone."

Idunna was still pacing around them and when she crossed in front again Sarah ventured one quick glance at her face. It looked like she was not entirely displeased and was mulling something over. She stopped in front of Jareth. That curious discreet little smile of hers had always worried him; it was a ripple on top of a huge hidden sea of cunning and, in her day, incredible power.

"Seeing that the damage is already done, I will grant my blessings on your formal union…on one condition." She leaned down and cupped Sarah's chin, gently bringing it up so she could look at her. He could've done worse. Fairly pretty as far as humans went. Yes, there was definitely a fine spark of intelligence in those green eyes of hers. And a secret yearning to be useful once more. Perfect. Her smile deepened.

"My youngest son Kavin is a great scientist and inventor in his own right. However, as you duly noted, with so much magic readily at hand I am sorry to say that physical science is a study sorely neglected and looked down upon by my people. It is not good to leave so many aspects of life up to chance, working against nature instead of with it. His education has been largely dependent upon the human world but it grows more and more dangerous to acquire the materials he needs to further it and many is the time that he has longed for a suitable assistant in his research. In short, I want you to work with him; I am not about to waste a brain such as yours and as long as you hold a position of authority here I want you contributing to the general welfare of our community. Do we have an accord?"

Surprised, Sarah glanced over at Jareth. He looked equal parts dubious and amused.

"Consider carefully, dear; Kavin has absolutely no sense of humor or personality whatsoever. He's practically a machine. Her majesty's fury might be preferable after all," he said, glancing in turn at his mother with a look that was trying to maintain solemn and about to lose it. The old queen gave a clipped sigh of faux exasperated disappointment, quietly betraying her sentiment.

_She really __isn't__ as hard as she seems_, Sarah thought, registering the odd cat-and-mouse teasing as a psychotic familial trait. _As long as we're all on the same __page_, she inwardly collapsed. "I cannot promise that my area of knowledge is going to help him but I will do my best."

Idunna looked satisfied and let go of her chin, only to offer her her thin, ice-pale hands in welcoming gesture. "I believe this means you are entitled to rise," she said dryly, still smiling. Sarah took a breath and the old queen's hands and was easily lifted to her feet by the large woman. She still had to look up at her, but not as far.

"So…do I need to keep calling you 'your Majesty' or it alright to call you 'Mother'? Or your first name?"

The expression on her face had now settled into a old, familiar amusement. "'Mother' will suit me just fine…Sarah." She looked over and saw Jareth pacing a few yards off, not entirely sure what to do with himself. "Of course you can still call me 'your Majesty' in public if you wish," she said a bit louder so he could hear.

"Oh, for heaven's sake Mother!"

That got a laugh. "You never could tell when you were being teased, either, could you?"

"Although, seriously, think about it," Jareth added, "a whole family of 'Your Majesties'? That would get rather dull, wouldn't it, not to mention damnably confusing. How could anyone tell who was even being referred to?"

"Why, you, naturally," she jabbed right back. They really were cut from the same cloth; Sarah had the feeling that if left alone together for a long enough period of time they would tear each other apart like Japanese fighting fish - except they hadn't already. They were simply too much alike. The great sidhe laughed at his expression and motioned him over. She held her children close, bowing her head.

* * *

The handfasting ceremony was set for the next auspicious phase of the moon. Sarah knew something of the human variety from reading medieval fantasy novels in her youth but quickly discovered that her own was going to be more complicated, elaborate, and extravagant than anything she had ever seen in her life. The ceremony itself was one of the last surviving rites that dated back to the beginnings of the Sidhe race (which was significantly older than mankind - that was freaky to think about!) and was rigorously kept intact. The fact that the event was a 'noble wedding' made the proceedings even more lavish. As per usual, Jareth (who thought that one's belief in the gods was a private matter) only gave Sarah the vaguest of ideas of what was going to happen and just enough of a rundown of the expected protocol that her participation wouldn't be considered sacrilegious. Once again she went to Morgan for help and was very grateful that she had. The Sidhe woman even waived the proper exchange since the event was the next night.

"In exchange," she smiled mischievously at her, "for help with my handfasting!"

The day they spent together was intense; she memorized all the vows and the proper responses and the order the thing would run in. The last part, however, even Morgan couldn't tell her about - it was a sacred re-enactment and therefore taboo from normal conversation. Sarah was surprised to find Jareth at home when she returned in the evening; she saw lights in his office. Upon entering, she saw that he was reading from a large old-looking tome but as soon as he sensed her he made the book vanish and looked up with a smile, leaning back in his chair.

"Hello, love. Are we thoroughly indoctrinated now?"

"I can't believe you're so lackadaisical about this. I won't be able to sleep tonight!"

He motioned for her to come over and she crossed the room and sat on his lap in a shared embrace. "It's just a lot of pretentious nonsense mostly. All that really matters is that your heart is in the joining."

"At any rate I'm surprised to see you here," she said, pulling back, "I thought for sure I'd find a note on the bed that said Sylvanias was throwing you the mother of all bachelor parties," she smiled, playing idly with his silky mane.

"What's a bachelor party?" he asked, looking up at her in all seriousness. Her jaw dropped.

"You don't - oh, get out of here, you have to know what a bachelor party is!"

"Not really. I never claimed to know everything about human traditions."

"Well…" Sarah said, straddling him, "this is a little unconventional, but -" She closed her eyes and concentrated - the next minute she was in red full-body lingerie. She opened her eyes to find Jareth smiling up at her wolfishly "- I'll just have to give you one myself."

* * *

The entire next day was spent in frantic preparation at the High Queen's castle. Sarah barely saw Jareth at all - once they arrived they were immediately separated and herded off to different wings of the compound by no less than about twenty servants each. Sarah was almost embarrassed at the amount of work these women were doing for her! Two garments were crafted on the spot: an elaborate, deep crimson 'wedding dress' and a forest green robe that almost looked Druidic - it was covered in symbols. Her entire body was glamoured to the point that she almost didn't recognize herself in the full-length mirror when they finally let her look at the finished product with the red dress on.

_I look like one of them - no - I look like a __goddess__, their goddess_, she thought in amazement. She hadn't been hungry or thirsty all day, either. _Guess they've been taking care of that, too._ As the sun went down, they brought in a human woman to style her hair - the normal way.

"They're terrified of messing it up!" the servant confided once they were left alone together. When she was finished, the old queen came in herself and placed amulets in different parts of the dress.

"So nothing steals you away on the walk to the altar," she said dryly with a smirk, kissing Sarah's forehead and covering her with a red veil that nearly came down to her feet. "Ready?"

"As ready as I'm ever going to be," Sarah nervously laughed. Idunna strolled around her, making sure everything was right, stopping in front of her when she was finished, taking both of her hands.

"This is my first son married. Make him happy, make him proud. At least keep him in line - someone needs to, he doesn't listen to me anymore!" she acidly laughed and Sarah had to laugh herself. "It's time to join the party. Hang on." The room disappeared in waves of heat - it wasn't quite a floating sensation, but she couldn't really describe it, lightheaded was more like it - and suddenly they were at the back of a glade that seemed to have seating for at least several hundred and it was packed.

_Every last sidhe in the realm has to be here_, Sarah thought. It was overwhelming. She slowly walked up the 'aisle', surrounded by 'bridesmaids' who had been made to look exactly like her; it felt like a weird trip, watching twelve more of herself following her every move in perfect unison. They made their way up to the stone altar, which was covered in half-melted candles, garlands of flowers and evergreen boughs at the foot of an enormous oak tree. They all spread out into a line.

It was then that she saw Jareth and almost felt the need to avert her eyes: he looked like a god, draped in leaves, crowned with oak, bare-chested with tiny rune-like sigils covering every last square inch of visible skin. They were glowing a bright green, as were his eyes. It was hard to believe that this was the same guy who she'd gotten to know over the past couple of years, the guy who liked to tickle-fight before they made love, and yet he advanced from the wings. And then she saw his wings - ethereal, completely outspread, sparkling gold in the sunset. This was as close to faerie prince as he was ever going to get.

Jareth even felt regal as he walked down the line of Sarahs, inspecting each of them carefully. He had to be able to identify which one was really her somehow by sundown in order to be allowed to marry her. The process was nerve-wracking even under normal circumstances but her being human upped the ante even further. The sidhe women surrounding Sarah could mimic every last thing she could possibly think to do to stand out.

Even in his magically enhanced state, Jareth was having a hard time finding his bride. He had been warned of this but never in his life had he imagined that the other women would make it so damn hard! He suddenly had an idea and went back to the beginning of the line. Starting with the first one, he asked her a question which only the true Sarah would know; easy but not of the sidhe world. It was promptly answered - so promptly that she was instantly disqualified: talking about female protection in front of so many people would have made the real Sarah squirm. He shook his head no and the woman stepped back, shedding the glamour his magicked eyes could not peel away. He successfully continued the process down to the sixth woman, who seemed more real. He questioned her again. Another correct response. He was about to do it again when she very discreetly kicked him hard in the shin. Hoping he was making the right choice he shook his head no and the woman stepped back. Blazing red hair replaced dark brown and she deviously smiled at him: it was his own sister Morgan!

_I'll get you for this_, he thought, only making her smile bigger. Questions knocked out two more. Four to go. Sarah was getting rather nervous and consequentially her companions were being careful to feel nervous, too. "Not to worry, love. This will soon be over," he said quietly, not looking at any of them. The next he asked to swing dance. She was surprised by the request but did it nevertheless but her movements weren't convincingly jerky enough to be human. Three to go. Sarah was next. He seemed to be pondering his next move as he studied the three women in front of him. She saw the doubt in his eyes…and then the light bulb. He grabbed the woman at the end of the line and dipped her for a kiss. The other sidhe woman looked on with longing but this was about as much as Sarah was going to take with this nonsense and went to slap his face. He dropped the woman he had been about to kiss just in time to grab Sarah's wrist - and held it high. "This one!" he proclaimed loudly with a triumphant smile.

And the crowd roared with cheering and applause. The bridesmaid who got dropped looked pissed but she picked herself up and joined the rest of the line who'd stepped back - and Jareth realized suddenly how close he had come to kissing Ariadne! He did a full-body shiver internally: he had very nearly chosen the woman the Federation had!

"You have got to be kidding," Sarah said under her breath as he took her hands and led her to the altar and the high priest. "This is a sanctified ceremony? What in the world is wrong with the father just giving away the bride?!"

"I'll explain later," he said, doing his best not to smile as they faced the unnaturally tall, white-haired high priest.

* * *

The remainder of the ceremony was almost urbane in comparison to the initial ordeal. The vows were somewhat complex, however, and to Sarah bits of it felt like overkill.

_Yes, I promise to faithfully wash your tights without bleach and visit you every Saturday if you're ever imprisoned. I will not leave you if you develop dental plaque, where's __that__ one?_

The priest actually stopped reading aloud in the Sidhe tongue from the tome in his hands and glanced down at Sarah, addressing her in a whisper. "I am made to understand human couples aboveground often invent their own vows. Would you care to add anything pertinent that I have overlooked, your Majesty?"

Sarah was suddenly rather glad she was wearing a red veil because that was the color she turned in embarrassment as she quickly shook her head no once. She kept forgetting that everyone could read her mind at close range! He continued. They were on to the 'fear me, love me, do as I say' part, and each knelt to the other in turn to say it, hands held. When Jareth did it, he discreetly produced a thin gold band with a marquise-cut moonstone in the center and slipped it on her ring finger as he said the vow. The priest noticed but kept on going as Jareth stood up - something humans called a 'wedding ring'; harmless. They were at the crucial point in the ceremony, the part Morgan absolutely refused to tell her about. They were led behind the solid stone altar then left alone sitting on the grass. All-of-a-sudden Jareth didn't look himself at all as his eyes blazed with the green, so bright Sarah almost couldn't look. When he spoke, it was clearly not Jareth.

"A human and not my usual consort. You look like her but you cannot fully embody her or she would be here."

Sarah's eyes went wide and she almost couldn't speak she was trembling so badly. When she did it all came out as a blurt.

"I…I'm sorry please don't be angry with me I had no idea-"

"Shh, it is not your fault, child. They could not tell you. It is forbidden. I can see you have a good and true heart and you actually love the being I am currently inhabiting. So I am going to let you have him - you would die if _we_ bonded in the Rite. No one will be the wiser, even he will not know I have been here. Strip off your dress."

Sarah quickly obeyed, having no idea what was about to happen but having a fair idea of what would happen if she failed to comply. The other being had simply torn off Jareth's attire, leaving on the oak crown. He appraised her briefly and smiled. Sarah had never felt so exposed in her life and yet was strangely unperturbed by his attention; it felt natural somehow.

"I will leave you to mate, then. Take as long as you wish; I always do. They will wait for you. Perhaps I shall see you again in the sidhe afterlife if you can follow him there. I am leaving him with the implanted suggestion to rut his brains out the moment I leave. _Enjoy_." He smiled deeply and his eyes stopped glowing altogether.

And Jareth proceeded to desperately shag Sarah as he had never screwed anyone in his entire life right there behind the altar!

Once they were quite finished and had revived enough to get back up, she noticed that the green robes were stashed over at the base of the oak tree. She carefully crawled over and fetched them, handing Jareth his. All of his sigils had vanished and both of them looked normal again, albeit a bit disheveled. He suddenly grinned.

"Ready to go face the crowd that just heard all that?"

"Oh god, why did you have to make me think about that?!"

He just laughed. "I've been to a handful of these events in my day and they're all the same. Don't worry; it's expected. We just passed muster is all," he said, kissing her forehead and helping her to stand, both decently covered now. A deafening cheer erupted from the crowd as they came back into view again. The entire assembly did a mass transport back to the Historical High Palace and the riotous party that ensued (which gave Sylvanias' infamous bashes a run for their money) lasted until dawn.

Speaking of Sylvanias, he wasn't there. As the sole family member who had opposed this union on moral grounds (of all things) he had absented himself from the entire occasion and his dissention did not go unnoticed. Everyone had tried to get him to see the union in a more positive light from some angle or another but his judgment never wavered: he could not accept that Jareth had married so hideously below him when some of the best families of the Old Court had been at his disposal had he so desired. And instead Jareth was wasting himself on this hybrid creature he had snatched from another world. Shortly afterwards, Syl threw another of his parties and Jareth was invited - but not Sarah. Jareth summarily showed up with his wife and they were both shown the door in spite of protests from several other guests. Sylvanias wouldn't even look at her. Jareth stepped back in and Sarah could hear the heated argument the two blonde men were having but she couldn't understand a word. After about 20 minutes Jareth exited the building looking a bit dejected.

"He can be so hard-headed about certain things. Syl really isn't a bad man. Please give him time." It was a serious reminder that they had been accepted very cautiously in this society but acceptance wasn't mandatory. Jareth's older brother was obviously going to be the dark cloud to their silver lining.

Normal life ran rather smoothly - well, as smoothly as it can run with goblins underfoot. Jareth was right: they could be rather annoying, like a cross between small children and unbroken house pets, only with an infinite capacity for trouble. The trick was to keep them busy. And the legally mandated afternoon 'siesta' definitely helped, too. In Sarah's new state, the meditation no longer affected her memory; it simply made the daily, petty disasters seem less bothersome. There were signs posted in the Goblin City with Sarah's likeness magically imprinted on them (as close as Jareth could get to a photograph), proclaiming her as queen. Sure, they had all attended the coronation ceremony but most goblins didn't have the best memories in the world and he wanted to head off the rather embarrassing problem that they might keep asking who she was. It had taken a full century before they started remembering him automatically.

Sarah found Dåshe's caricature of Jareth and thought the effort was so cute she asked to be introduced. It was quite the spectacle when the royal couple sat for their formal portrait: one of the foremost artists from the City of the Federation working alongside a tiny, dirty little goblin just a bit smaller than a domestic chameleon, scurrying about a large sheet of paper on the floor, laying down ink and other substances, including some pilfered rouge from Sarah's vanity to put the finishing touches on her lovingly, painstakingly, crudely-drawn face. The portraits hung side-by-side in the Grand Hall.

As far as Jareth's new vampyric 'feeding schedule' went, it turned out to ironically be the one way in which he was low-maintenance. A supplement, indeed: only one short session precisely every three weeks. At the beginning when they still weren't sure how often he would need it, Sarah had been taking donor training and safety classes privately at the clinic, but with him having such a light schedule, Jareth would only ever require one donor, and he had already hired Thor outright. There was one unusually bold stipulation in the man's work contract, however - that the precise terms of payment be kept a secret - to which Jareth immediately conceded, finally having enough knowledge of the human psyche to understand Thor's embarrassment over accepting help for a gambling addiction. Sarah had no idea what Jareth was doing to that man's mind, but whatever it was, it seemed to initially be yielding some positive results. In only four sessions, he started showing up to the appointments in newer clothing and had begun talking of plans of his future to Sarah when he saw her in passing, his mood and outlook greatly improved. After a few more visits, Jareth began to pay him the going rate in gold, confident at last that it wouldn't go to waste.

Sarah was true to the word she had given the old high queen and worked regularly with Kavin. If the man had been human she would have suspected that he simply had a fairly severe form of Asperger's Syndrome and told him as much once she'd gotten to know him better. Rather than being offended, he seemed intrigued by the idea that there were other beings as gifted and socially challenged as he was and, at her insistence, joined an internet forum for it under an assumed name. As for his work, Sarah had never been confronted with such genius and an insatiable appetite for knowledge and innovation in her life and there were nights that Jareth had to forcibly separate them just to get Sarah to go to bed. Her working knowledge of solar electricity was proving useful and they had several inventions in the works. It was challenging finding enough suitable materials for construction of the batteries, though. The junkyard goblins were working on it.

In her spare time, Sarah liked to frequent the human colony. She could no longer be as one of them but it was nice being able to visit with some of them; it was a way of keeping her feet on the ground, a solid connection to her past. She started social movements to add more to their lives and, among other projects, worked with Kavin to build things to make their work easier. Her pet project, though, was the amateur theatre that she both founded and built. Formal entertainment was almost unheard of in the colony with the exception of a few musicians of sorts, so it was very gratifying to be able to give their community a long-awaited artistic outlet. Some of the actors were quite good, actually, and as the productions got better and word got around, city sidhe started coming in disguise to some of the plays. Of course it was a dead-giveaway that you'd never met the peasant man or woman sitting next to you in the bleachers and that the only time these people ever appeared was to go to the playhouse but nobody said anything. It was one tiny step closer to equality. The monarchs of the Goblin Kingdom had permanently reserved front-row seats and attended as often as they could.

Sarah's new physical body was working perfectly well. However, there was one rather unforeseen result of her bonding with Jareth. She awoke one morning and found in the mirror that she appeared to have a light bruise over part of her right eye. But it didn't act like a bruise; it got bigger and more defined over the next few days and makeup just slid right off of it or vanished the moment it was dry. After two weeks it was finally apparent: she had developed an elemental symbol for air, not like Jareth's but similarly colored. A plain lavender swath over one entire eye. His genetic material was stronger than hers and was winning out in her body, greatly enhancing the chances of conception (although they hadn't been deliberately trying yet.) Neither the physician nor the High Priest had ever seen anything like it but she seemed physically stable and there was the chance that she might actually be able to not only transport but transform! Oracles were consulted and the resulting answer was her totem form: the common falcon. There was certainly nothing common about metamorphosing for the first time and then learning how to fly! She learned as much as she dared at the feet of the High Priest; she could almost swear he was just a little proud of her. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what had really happened behind that altar on the day of her handfasting. Sarah - who had learned not only to read his thoughts but to guard her own - just smiled.

And every Tuesday night was Scrabble night with Sir Didymus and the boys.


	28. Epilogue: Crystal Moon, Diamond Sun

Crystal Moon, Diamond Sun

Sarah speaks:

It's about midnight. I've gone down to the castle garden to sit and enjoy the night air and the nocturnal blooming flowers Jareth had originally had planted there for his pleasure. I just happened to wake up: he always sneaks out of bed in the middle of the night to do laps around the castle in his totem form. I would've never thought it when I met him but he really is a creature of habit, it's sort of funny. There he goes now, and around the bend - white as a ghost in the moonlight, dead silent. I still haven't gotten used to our view of the moon: it's about the size of a harvest moon on earth, only much brighter and clearer with a blue sort of haze, like you might see in winter. Only it's summer here. It gets a little colder part of the year but I've never seen snow or ice. At least I'm somewhere temperate for eternity. Well, not quite eternity, but it might as well be.

I have no regrets. Alright, that's a lie, I have one. I could never tell Toby where I was going. I left him as many clues as I dared but for safety's sake we had to retrieve the Book. Maybe he'll put it all together someday. The one person who did know died many years ago and took her secret to the grave - literally: she was buried in those magic boots I gave her. It still seems strange to me that she's gone when I haven't aged at all. I've outlived most of my family by now. I thought of bringing some of them here but, in all seriousness, I think they'd rather be where they are. Not many people could handle this life. It isn't human. I'm no longer human, and it gives me a much broader scope in a way, a way forward. We did finally agree: we're going to bring my little brother here at the end of his life and extend his health by about twenty years. A very warm welcome awaits him, even from the goblins. The Babe is finally coming home.

Time passes differently here; it's almost impossible to accurately describe what it's like unless you've felt it yourself. It ebbs and flows almost like an irregular tide and sometimes it's still easy for me to lose track. Or it might just be a part of what I am now. I'm not really sure.

I don't see the owl anymore; he must be finished. As intoxicating as the flowers are out here I should probably go turn in, too.

No. I'm going to the library to write. This account needs to be preserved and I'm suddenly in the mood to do so.

I pass back through the stone-arched door and produce a small flame in my hand; I don't share Jareth's night vision. In spite of the ordinance he made when I got here against civilian goblins in the castle at night, a handful of his subjects still sleep in the halls and I'm careful not to wake them. As much as the matter irritates my husband, I can't find it in my heart to blame them: this was their home first. Ah, the library. I open the door as quietly as possible and slip inside, closing it with a very faint click. With a flick of my wrist all the candles are lit and I go for the parchment and ink. These small magics are as automatic now as flipping a light-switch in my old life. There's a comfy velvet couch toward the back of the room and, parking my accumulated writing supplies with a small lap desk, I settle in. I don't often stay up all night but this deserves it and we've nowhere go tomorrow. I dip my pen. Let's see…

"I suppose it all began…"

No, that's not right at all; that part's in the history books.

*laughter*

That's it.

"Jareth Ravensong crash-landed back into my life on June 15th of the earth year 2007, Common Era …"

* * *

Jareth speaks:

It has been an age since I bonded Sarah to myself and, to be frank, it hasn't always been an easy ride but we both knew it would be so. She seems to relate better in her exalted state but sometimes her remaining humanness is still puzzling to me and causes periodic complications and rifts from what turns out to invariably be a simple case of misunderstanding. And I do not forget that she has her hands full with me, as well as our empire, if one could call such a ruckus chaos one. I had been a bachelor for far too long but she seemed to sense this right away and we have both learned how to accommodate each other for the most part. Her temper aside, I have no complaints. She is an excellent queen and mate.

Speaking of mating, the energy bond between us is a curious thing. I knew it would affect her up to a specific degree but had had no idea that it would affect me also. I often sense her feelings when she is not present without any attempt at communication and she claims to experience something similar, although she was a lot less ecstatic about that particular nuance than I was. She has adapted beautifully to life here, but there remain certain things which are simply alien to her nature and most likely always will be. Unbeknownst to my dear wife, I have had to learn how to shield my thoughts so that she does not feel overwhelmed by the constant flow of information. I'm rather sorry to admit the reverse situation has helped me to understand her better.

As forewarned, she feels when I am physically far removed but that effect also is mutual. As a result, we travel together as often as my situation allows when I must go abroad in the other kingdoms. And - thankfully for her sake - there have been no true wishers since; that ridiculous movie they made garbled the incantation and I don't have to answer when people say it incorrectly. I think that phase of my life may finally be over but perhaps it's still too early to say.

I know my Sarah often wakes up when I go do my nightly laps around the castle in my totem form. I think she subconsciously feels my absence but it can't be helped; my body literally won't let me sleep without indulging this instinct around midnight. Occasionally she just waits up for me or attends to her own body - it's a short flight. More often she comes and watches and I feels her mild amusement from far below in the garden. Such was the case tonight.

I retransformed into my power state, grateful that I can once again do this simple act at will and, feeling greatly refreshed, transported back to our quarters. To my surprise, she isn't back. No lights on. Bathroom empty. As gratifying as it would be to see where she is, I will refrain from forming a crystal. We made a pact many years ago not to spy on each other save in times of great emergency. I sense that she's working on something calmly; at least she's not in trouble. Probably in the library. It wouldn't be the first time she's retreated there so as not to disturb me whether working or resting. Thank the gods there's somewhere in this rathole of a fortress that feels like home to her. I try not to needlessly worry as I close my eyes. She's alright.

* * *

Sarah's right hand ached and was stained with black ink; she had been writing for hours and was finally nearing the present. She yawned and stretched her hands and arms, extinguishing the torches along the walls. The lamp next to her would suffice; the trailers of a red dawn were approaching over the horizon and the high medieval windows along the outer wall were beginning to let in sufficient natural light. She shook her head slightly to try and wake up, desperately missing coffee, and dipped her quill again.

"Of course, there is one last little thing - very, very little at present. I haven't said anything to Jareth in fear of getting his hopes up over nothing but-"

She was interrupted by a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the right side of her neck.

"Good morning," her husband purred deeply in her ear. "And what were we up to in the small hours of the night when you should be snuggling with me, hmm? It looks like you were struck with a fit of writing from the muse Clio - that's a whole ream of paper!"

"It's all about us. My memory is a lot better now but I realized the other day that I was having trouble remembering some things from before and I didn't want to forget this."

"I see," he smiled, wrapping his arms about her from behind, kissing her head. It was then that he finally noticed what was on the page he had interrupted and froze. When he spoke again his voice was trembling. "Does that mean what I think it means? After all these years?"

Sarah turned to face him with quietly beaming hope. "I just missed a second cycle."

Without another word, Jareth scooped her up under her arms from out of the lap desk and turned her around. She gave a little yell of surprise as he spun with her in his arms about the floor, laughing in triumph, holding her high. He abruptly stopped, carefully putting her down on her feet again, and knelt before her, putting an ear to her stomach. Sarah laughed.

"Jareth, it's barely two months old! You're not going to be able to notice it like that yet!"

He continued unperturbed until he found what he was looking for: a small spark of life within the larger one. He was still miniscule, barely a lump of organic matter, but alive and strong and growing. Jareth gasped in realization. Him. He looked up at Sarah with such love.

"We have a healthy son." He hugged her abdomen where he knelt, silently crying into her dress as she stroked his hair, fondling his neck and shoulders. He came up bright-eyed and kissed her for a long time before suddenly noticing the dawn. Sarah felt her own totem stirring and sighed.

"I can't fly or do any more magic until he's delivered, right?"

"I would advise against transporting until you have him but metamorphosis can't hurt him for a couple more weeks; he's still small enough. Go enjoy your flights while you can. I'll get my lute. My son deserves a new song."

He kissed her once more and Sarah was off like a flash, all her tiredness forgotten, racing up the stairs to the parapets.

* * *

The Lord of the Labyrinth sat out on the ledge of a glassless window in a tower, serenading the lone falcon soaring high above the castle, calling out to the sun of a new day.

**THE END**

* * *

Exit Music: 'Apollo' (Drop Black Sky, _Sticks and Shadows_)

* * *

_Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who's read and been supportive of this story, my first large work. I had an odd moment yesterday morning when I was getting chapter 27 ready to post. For a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all, that I was seven years younger and the house was new and I should be surrounded by stacks of books on the New Age checked out from the college library so I could write my senior dissertation on Enya. Back when I was typing up the very beginnings of this story on the sly. And then it hit me how much life has happened between then and now, both good and bad, that I couldn't have even imagined half of it. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was right, of course, that the truth is stranger than any fiction. I'm glad that you've all been here, sharing this the final product of my work, the one thing that tied all of those tumultuous years together. Thank you. _

_Until later._

_Tink_


End file.
